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IMITY TOOL JIB! 



AN ACCOUNT 



OF THE 



TREATMENT OF MR. FAIRCHILD 



BY THE 



DEACONS IN SOUTH BOSTON, AND OTHERS, 



WRITTEN BY HIMSELF 



Second Edition. 



EXETER: 

PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHO 

i'844. 



ffllPITY UNFOLDED! 



AN ACCOUNT 



OF THE 



*ft*\ 'vW- 



TREATMENT OF II. .. FAIICHILD 



BY THE 



DEACONS IN SOUTH BOSTON, AND OTHERS. 



WRITTEN BY HIMSELF 



Second Edition 



EXETER: 

PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR 

1*844. 

H 



BX7^° 



M 



344^- 



Advertisement. 



The following pages I submit to the perusal of a candid public. And I do so, be- 
cause it has hitherto been utterly impossible for those who wish to learn the truth in 
my case, to attain their object. Out of respect to them, as well as to vindicate myself, 
I feel compelled to tell nfy story to the world. And though it is a long one, it is yet a 
true one. There is no fiction in it. But as it contains so many strange and almost 
incredible incidents, I should hardly expect the full confidence of the public in the truth 
of my statements, did I not produce such documents and refer for proof to such wit- 
nesses, as cannot, with any show of reason, be disputed. True, in a few instances I 
state a conversation which passed between me and some other person alone. If any 
such person should deny the truth of what I state, I can only place my veracity and 
the probabilities of the case in the scale against his dejjial. 

If I know my own heart, I have not been moved to this work by any hostile feelings 
towards those who have persecuted me and brought me almost to my grave ; for I 
believe that even my enemies will admit that I am not a pugnacious man, whatever 
else I may be. But I publish my story that the cause of justice and truth may tri- 
umph, which every candid person in the community must anxiously desire. It grieves 
me to be obliged to make such developments to the world of the character and doings 
of individuals, who, by profession, are Christians and members of the visible Church ; 
but it must be remembered that if disgrace and reproach are brought upon the Church 
by these disclosures, no blame can attach to me. I am not the aggressor. I would 
gladly have kept concealed from the public eye those iniquities which are now to be 
untolded. But my enemies have forced this painful task upon me, and I must speak. 
I have borne and forborne till the very stones have seemed to rebuke me for my silence. 
One of two things all admit must be true, viz. 1 am either the worst of men, or the 
most persecuted and injured, — either a knave or a martyr. Let the public read my 
story and judge for themselves. J. H. FAIRCHILD. 

^Exeter, N. H., Dec. 1844. 



Entered according to an act of Congress, in the year 1844, in the Clerk's Office of 
the District Court of New Hampshire. 




INIQUITY UNFOLDED 



In my late trial at Exeter, I proposed to introduce before the Council 
some evidence to prove that there was a combination on the part of my 
personal enemies to destroy my character, and depose me from the min- 
istry. But I had not proceeded far when a remonstrance was sent in by 
the Deacons of Phillips Church, South Boston, objecting to such a pro- 
cedure, as they were not present to defend themselves. This part of 
my defence was then arrested. This I deeply regretted at the time, as I 
well knew that the Council could not act intelligently without a knowledge 
of all the facts bearing on the case. These facts I now propose to place 
before the public, with such references and documents for proof, as must 
convince all unprejudiced men that what I state is true. I am moved to 
this, not by any wish to injure my enemies, but because it is due to my- 
self and the public generally, that the whole truth should be told, " let it 
cut where it may." There is a point beyond which forbearance ceases to 
be a virtue. I take this course for another reason. It is stated to me by 
my friends, that my character now suffers, not so much by the evidence 
brought against me before the Council, as by the ill reports which are 
circulated with regard to my pievious character and habits during my 
ministry in East Hartford, Ct. Though nothing of this kind was adduced 
as evidence against me in the presence of the Council when in session, 
(for if it had I should have been ready to meet it,) yet there is evidence 
that such things were repeated to my injury out of doors, both to mem- 
bers of the Council and others. On this account it is, that I feel con- 
strained to go into a brief history of my ministerial life, that a candid pub- 
lic may judge between me and my accusers. 

I was ordained in East Hartford in June, 1816, and was dismissed, at 
my own request, in August, 1827. During my ministry there, of more 
than eleven years, I was as successful, and the people were as united, as 
usually fails to the lot of a minister and his parishioners. But it has been 
stated by my enemies, and the story has been industriously circulated, 
that I left the church in ^East Hartford because my moral character suf- 
fered, and the good people there had lost all confidence in me. Let the 
following documents tell the story. 

The doings of the Church in East Hartford, at a meeting holden on the 
6th day of August, 18*27, 

"We, the members of this Church, having received a communication from oar beloved 
Pastor, requesting us to unite with him and the Society in calling an Ecclesiastical 
Council to dismiss him from his present charge, if they shall judge it expedient, feel it 



4 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

our duty to state that we deeply regret the causes which have led him to make such a 
request ; that we regard Mr. Fairchild as an orthodox, faithful and successful minister 
©f Christ. He has labored among us abundantly, in word and doctrine, and we esteem 
him highly in love for his works' sake. Our attachment to him is strong, and out con- 
fidence unshaken. By the blessing of God upon his labors this Church has been greatly 
enlarged. More than eighty have been added to our number since the present year 
commenced, and upwards of two hundred during his ministry. On these accounts he 
has become dear to us, and we cannot indulge the thought of his leaving us without 
peculiar regret. But we feel it to be a Christian duty to lay selfish considerations aside, 
and to consult his happiness as well as our own. Such being the views and feelings 
which we entei tain, we do hereby give our consent to submit the question, whether Mr. 
Fairchild shall continue amonc us as our Pastor or not, to the consideration and decis- 
ion of a Council. And we give this consent on account of his own urgent request. 

TIMOTHY HALL, Moderator. 
The above is a correct copy of the doings of the Church, 

Attest, SAMUEL PITKIN, Scribe. 

Samuel Pitkin was one of the four deacons of the Church, a gentle- 
man of great respectability and worth, whose praise was in all the churches 
in that vicinity, and whose spirit, we doubt not, is now in heaven. 

I have been informed by several persons who witnessed it, that during 
that progress of my trial, the Rev. Edward Beecher of Boston, was re- 
peating the story to some members of the Council, and to other gentle- 
men,that this same deacon Pitkin had lest all confidence in me when I was 
in East Hartford; so much so that he would not allow his daughters either 
to ride or walk with me, and this was doubtless urged in private as a 
reason why I should be deposed from the ministry. Dr. B., I trust, is a 
good man. But like other good men he may be mistaken. He had 
convicted me of crime long before my trial, and had expressed his con- 
viction to others^ He came to the Council prepared, as he stated at the 
opening of the session, "to sum up the evidence in the case, and bring it 
before the Council in its proper connection, to enable them how to act.' 7 
He, with two other clergymen, was appointed by the Association to which 
I belonged, "to inquire into the facts in the case, and to stale them to the 
Council when convened." But to my utter astonishment he appeared 
before the Council as my prosecutor, when I was totally unprepared to 
meet him in that capacity. The Rev. Mr. Riddel, chairman of the 
committee, had expressed the opinion to me, that there was no need of 
any lawyer on my part, as they weie not coming in the character of pros- 
ecutors, but simply as reporters of facts for and against me. But the 
declaration of Dr. Beecher, above quoted, convinced me of my mistake. 
He did not allow me the common privilege of all persons accused, viz. 
the presumption oj innocence until guilt is proved. He had made up 
his mind against me on the testimony of the principal witness, given to 
him by her in private, or by some one who had heard her story in private, 
when kw, if any, were present, without cross-examination, and whiie he 
must have been ignorant of all testimony in my favor, and especially the 
testimony of the girl's mother and others in Edgecomb. Is Dr. B. infal- 
lible in his judgment? Did he never find occasion to give up an opinion 
which he once entertained beyond a doubt of its truth ? Has he forgotten 
the time when he was firm in the belief that Providence had raised him 
up to give to the church and the world the true exposition of the Song 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 5^ 

of Solomon, and that all preceding commentators had entirely misap- 
prehended its meaning? But that exposition has not yet made its appear- 
ance, and it is presumed that he has long since renounced the opinion 
once so pertinaciously entertained. As he was mistaken then, so he may 
be now. Nay more, have I not proved his mistake ? The above record 
of the doings of the church in East Hartford, if I remember correctly, was 
drawn up by deacon Pitkin. At any rate, it was voted and signed by 
his own hand ; and he was not a man to vole or sign any thing which he 
did not believe. 

A better friend than deacon Pitkin L had not in the world. When I 
made my annual visit in East Hartford, as I usually did for several of the 
first years of my ministry in Boston, his house was my home, and his 
hospitalities I received without stint or measure. He seldom or never 
came to the city without visiting me, and the last sermon he ever heard in 
Boston was from my lips. I now have a letter before me from him, dated 
March 16, 1829. The object of his letter is, to give me some account 
of the state of things in the church and parish there. He closes with 
these words: — "Mrs. Pitkin sends her love to Mrs. Fairchild and your- 
self, in which I cordially unite." Yet this is the man who had lost alL 
confidence in me ! 

| .1 will now qvote a few paragraphs from the doings of the Council! 
which dismissed me from the church in East Hartford. 

"After a short recess, the Council resumed the consideration of the subject before themj 
The following question was then taken. Do the Council feel that they have just grounds 
to proceed to dissolve the pastoral relation subsisting between the Rev. Mr. Fairchild 
and the people of his charge ? Although the Council regret that Mr. Fairchild should 
have attached so much weight, as he appears to have done, to the circumstances which 
led him to decide on the question of his own duty, yet the foregoing question was voted, 
unanimously in the affirmative. Therefore, 

Voted unanimously, That it is expedient that the pastoral relation of the Rev. Joy H. 
Fairchild to the Church and Society in this place be now dissolved, and the same is - 
hereby dissolved. 

The Rev. Mr. Fairchild being thus released from the pastoral charge of this people, . 
this Ecclesiastical Council do cheerfully recommend him to the churches of our Lord 
wherever Divine Providence may direct his way, as a worthy minister of Christ Jesus. 
Having labored in the work of the Gospel ministry in this place, during a period of 
eleven years, it has pleased the God of all grace to accompany his labors, from time to ■ 
time, with a divine blessing, and to grant his people two precious seasons of revival, 
hopefully cilling many immortal souls into the fold of Christ. Endowed with rich]min- - 
isterial gifts, the Council entertain a hope that he mav continue long a faithful laborer 
in- the vineyard of his Lord, and be instrumental, by divine grace, of turning many to 
righteousness. 

Passed in Council, HENRY A. ROWLAND, Moderator. 

Attest, THOMAS ROBBINS, Scribe." ' 

East Hartford, August 28, 1827. 

Soon after my dismission from the church' in East Hartford, the vener^ 
able Dr. Perkins of West HartfordWho was ihe.uble and;beioved Pastor 
of the Church there for about sixty years, put into my hands the follow- 
ing testimonial;: — 

" The Rev. Joy H. Fairchild, the bearer hereof, is a minister of the gospel in reg- 
ular and good standing. He was lately dismissed, as such, from his pastoral relation < 
to the Church and congregation in East Hartford, where he was an esteemed and.suctv- 

i*- 



6 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

eessful, able and faithful laborer for eleven years. He is a man of science, and sound 
in the faith ; in his manners agreeable, and in his preaching evangelical. His style is 
elegant, and his delivery is both pleasing and eloquent. Accordingly he is heartily re- 
commended to the Churches, wherever God, in his wise Providence, may call him. 

NATHAN PERKINS, Pastor of the third Ch. in Hartford." 
Hartford, Ct. September 4, 1827. 

The following testimonial was given me, signed by five clergymen who 
were members of the same Association with myself. 

" The Rev, Joy H. Fairchild has resided in the vicinity of us, the subscribers, for 
more than eleven years, and has been associated with us in the labors and duties of the 
Gospel. We esteem him highly as a beloved brother, and a faithful and efficient labor- 
er in the common service of our divine Master. During his ministry he has been stu- 
dious and diligent, much devoted to his particular charge, usually at home, and while 
enjoying the esteem and attachment of his people, his profiting has been very visible to 
us, and to the people in the adjacent places We consider him endowed with rich min- 
isterial gifts. His labors have been crowned with a divine blessing. This is attested 
by two happy seasons of revival, and the addition of moie than two hundred members 
to his Church during his ministry. Having been separated from is Church and So- 
ciety, at his own request, made from a deliberate sen>e of duty, wehart with him with 
much reluctance, as well as his affectionate people. We recommend him to the chris- 
tian affection and brotherly esteem of our dear brethren in the vineyard of Christ Jesus, 
and to the approbation of the Churches of our Lord and Savior. 

THOMAS ROBBINS, 
HENRY A ROWLAND, 
ISAAC PORTER. 
ALLEN McLEAN, 
NOAH PORTER." 
East Windsor, Ct. August 31, 1827. 

The following paper was given me by the Rev. Dr. Sprague, now of 
Albany. 

""It gives me pleasure to state, for the benefit of those who may not be acquainted 
with the Rev. Mr Fairchild, that I consider him a gentleman of well cultivaled mind 
and a deserving character, and that he holds a distinguished place among the preachers 
in this region. His pulpit talents are of a high order. He lately preached in my pulpit 
with uncommon acceptance, and I have heard from many other places a similar testi- 
mony in his favor. His ministry at East Hartford, I have been informed, has been 
greatly blessed of God. WILLIAM B. SPRAGUE." 

West Springfield, Oetober 2, 1827. 

The following is the testimonial of Rev. Dr. Hawes, of Hartford. 

"As the Rev. Joy H Fairchild is about to remove from this, to seek some other field 
of labor, it is with pleasure that I give him this testimonial of affection and respect, and 
a cordial recommendation to the fellowship and kind offices of ministers and christians 
wherever, in the providence of God, his lot may be cast. In connection with the people 
of his late charge, he, for several years, proved himself an able and successful minister 
of Christy and while a grateful remembrance is cherished of his exertions to promote 
the interests of religion in this portion of the church, he goes from us with fervent pray- 
ers that the blessing of God may attend him, and that, in due time, he may be called 
to renew, in stated labors, his services for the advancement of that cause to which he has 
devoted his life. JOEL HAWES, 

Pastor of the First Church of Christ in Hartford." 
Hartford, September 10, 1827. 

I beg leave to add one more testimonial It wa9 given by the Rev. 
Samuel Spring, who, at the time of my,> eftsmissio/^ w,as Pastor of the. 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 7 

North Chureh in Hartford, but is now settled in East Hartford, among 
the people of my former charge. 

" Hartford, September 13. 1827. 
" The Rev. Joy H. Fairchild, the bearer of this letter, was recently dismissed from his 
pastoral charge in East Hartford, by an Ecclesiastical Council of which I was a mem- 
ber. I had previously been informed that Mr. Fairchild was in estimation amon^ his 
brethren in the ministry and the Churches in this vicinity for talent, industry and fidel- 
ity in his work. The investigation of the difficulties between him and his people has 
had no other tendency than to confirm, in these respects, the good opinion of those to 
whom he was best known ; and I cheerfully give him this testimonial of my own es- 
teem, and my assured belief that he possesses more than common qualifications to edify 
the Church of God, and to become useful to the world. As a preacher he is popular 
and as a pastor I believe he has a testimony in the consciences of the good and bad 
among his former people, highly honorable to himself, and a happy pledge of his fu- 
ture success. Evangelical in his views, industrious in his habits, engaging in his man- 
ners, and devoted to his profession, I feel warranted to indulge the hope that he will 
prove a blessing to the community in which hio lot may be cast, and an instrument of 
turning many to righteousness. 

SAMUEL SPRING, Pastor of North Church, Hartford." 

'•'Having been a member of the dismissing Council, T hereby add my name, and ex 
press my concurrence in the sentiments expressed in the above letter of recommenda- 
tion. 

JOEL H. LINSLEY, Pastor of South Church, Hartford." 

Dr. Linsley has since been settled over the Park Street Church in 
Boston, on which occasion, at his own request, I presented him the Ri^ht 
Hand of Fellowship. He is now President of the College at Marietta, 
Ohio. 

Sirh are my testimonials, as to character, with which I commenced 
my labors in South Boston. As I wish to tell the whole truth, I will 
here state that during the second or third year of my ministry in East 
Hartford, a report was put in circulation, injurious to my character, orig- 
inating with two male members of the Church, who were, at the time, 
under discipline for intemperance. But when the people knew the origin 
and the circumstances of the report, it was generally regarded by all un- 
prejudiced and well-disposed persons, as libellous. Certain it is that the 
Church did not deem it of sufficient importance even to appoint a com- 
mittee of inquiry. No church meeting was held on the subject. Not an 
individual ever preferred any charge against me before the church, or ex- 
pressed a wish to do so. Nor was I ever dealt with privately for any 
delinquency whatever during my ministry of eleven years. And when I 
asked my dismission, the idea that my moral character was suffering never 
entered my mind. Even the tongue of slander had not, for many years, 
to my knowledge, uttered a whisper against me. The cause of my ask- 
ing a dismission was totally disconnected from every thing of this nature, 
as many now living in East Hartford can testify. 1 would refer especially 
to the two senior deacons there, viz. Eliab Pratt and John Judson, who 
well knew at the time all the circumstances which induced me to seek a 
removal from that place. I had no secrets there entrusted to any man in 
relation to the cause of my asking a dismission, and if I had he has my 
full permission to disclose them to the world. 

| was installed over ilia church in South Boston on the 22d day of No- 



8 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

vember, 1827. Soon after this, Jeremy Drake, then a messenger (if I 
remember correctly) in the Washington Bank, was appointed Deacon. — 
When the Franklin Bank went into operation, which was in 1828 or 9, 
Marcus Whiting was chosen cashier. Having connected himself with my 
church, he was soon elected to the office of deacon. In 1832 I had some 
intimations that my deacons were unfriendly to me, and especially deacon 
Whiting, who complained, as I was informed, because my preaching, as 
he thought, was pointed and personal, and because I did not plainly tell 
bis children when I called at his house, that they were great sinners, and 
going directly to hell.* It was not long before I had positive proof of 
their dissatisfaction by their actions, and by their desire expressed to Mr. 
Hay ward and others for a new minister. A knowledge of this fact gave 
me not a little anxietv. I felt as though the deacons of the church were 
especially bound to sustain the pastor and be the last to desert him, ex- 
cept for immoral conduct. Several interviews were had with deacon Whit- 
ing, to convince him that be was not acting a christian part, and to induce 
him not to use his influence against me. His promises were fair but un- 
fulfilled. While things were in this state, early in March, 1833, I re- 
ceived a call from the First Fresbyterian Church in Newburyport. This 
occurrence brought matters at once to a crisis. The brethren of the 
church immediately held a meeting to consult as to what action they should 
take in reference to my call, and what measures, if any, they should adopt 
to induce me to decline it. Every : brother, as I was informed, was re- 
quested freely to declare his opinions and wishes. The result was that 
all expressed a strong desire that I should continue among them, except 
the deacons. They preferred my leaving. Papers were then circulated 
among the male and female members of the Church and congregation 
for the ^signatures cf those who wished me to remain. All, I believe 
who had the opportunity signed those papers except the deacons. At a 
regular meeting of the Church held in the Vestry about this time, 1 sent 
in a communication, stating the fact that I had received a call, but was 
not then prepared to say what answer I should return ; but added that 
unless certain difficulties then existing in the Church were removed, I 
should doubtless feel it my duty to accept the call. As it never has been 
my practice to make a breach wider by openly proclaiming the faults of 
my brethren, unless compelled by duty to do so, only a few of the Church 
knew of any existing difficulties. Accordingly a Committee was appoin- 
ted to wait on me and request an explanation of my letter. I then made 
some statements with regard to deacon Whiting's treatment of me, and 
closed by saying that he must leave the Church or I should. When they 
returned and made their report, the deacon immediately arose and assured 



*. His children were very young at the time, and two of them just old enough to at- 
tend the S.ibbath School. He complained that when I called at his house, I patted his 
children on their heads, took them on my knee, stroked their hair, reminded them that 
they had been dedicated to God, in baptism, asked them about their- attending the Sab- 
bath School, told them to be good children and love the Savior, so that when they died 
they might go to heaven. This, the deacon thought, was well enough, as far as it went. 
But he wanted me to go farther — to be more plain and severe. Tnese, I was told at the 
time, were his chief reasons for being dissatisfied with me* 



iniquity unfolded. 9 

the brethren that he would ask a dismission. At a subsequent meeting, 
after making a suitable apology for what lie had done, a letter of dismis- 
sion and recommendation to Pine Street Church was granted him. At 
this time he was Cashier of the Oriental Bank, and deacon Drake suc- 
ceeded him in the Franklin Bank. Deacon Whiting's history in connec- 
tion with the Oriental Bank, is too well known to the commercial commu- 
nity to require any comments from me. As these deacons, Whiting and 
Drake, were on terms of great intimacy, and sympashised with each other 
] was on the point of making it a condition of my remaining, that both 
of them should leave But a mutual friend remarked to me that deacon 
Drake was grealy influenced by deacon Whiting, and would doubtless 
give me no trouble when that influence was withdrawn. On this account 
I consented to his remaining. Whether I acted wisely or not the sequel 
will show. 

As I was out of health at the time, and as there w 7 ere weighty reasons 
why I should go to Newburyporr, more than two months passed away 
before I was prepared to return an answer to the call. In the meantime, 
deacon Drake then finding himself alone in his opposition, called to see 
me, and expressed his opinion that, all things considered, 1 had better 
remain. As he had, a short time previous, expressed his desire that I 
should leave, 1 asked him for his reasons. He assigned the very common 
one, better edification. It was then my impression that if I had preached 
more on the doctrines of the Gospel and against other denominations, and 
less on the duty of doing justly, and loving mercy, and having charity for 
those who differ from us, and governing the temper and tongu?, the plea 
of better edification would not have been urged. I have however since 
been informed by a friend that what he had especially against me was 
that I was a proud man ; and the evidence of my pride consisted in my 
wearing a frock coat, walking with a cane, and preaching in a gown and 
bands. At this interview he promised in the hearing of my wife, that if 
I remained, he would never give me any more trouble ; that if he should 
in future become so dissatisfied with me from any cause as not to sit conten- 
tedly under my ministry, he would go quietly away, and use no influence 
to injure me, and make no attempt to prejudice any one again t me. 
Though from that time there was no open hostility till August 1841, yet I 
could often see enough so convince me that the feelings of his heart were 
unchanged. There was nothing kind and cordial in his intercourse with 
me, no expression of approbation at my unwearied efforts to promote the 
prosperity of the Church and congregation, and no gratitude apparently 
felt^formy persevering and exhausting labors in electing the new meeting 
house, and procuring the clock and the organ. 

In 18*36 deacon Josiah Vinton came to reside among us ; and as he 
had sustained the office of deacon in other Churches, he was appointed 
to supply a vacancy in that office occasioned by the removal of deacon 
Gale. I had no difficulty with him till the summer of 1840. It was 
then proposed to alter the meeting house steps which projected so far in- 
to the public highway as to expose the Society to be prosecuted for a 
nuisance. This alteration w 7 as advocated by me with some zeal, while 
deacon V. was strenuously opposed to it. But in Parish meeting it was 



10 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

voted with great unanimity, notwithstanding his opposition, to alter the 
steps. Being naturally irritable, unyielding, and self-opinioned, the above 
vote gave him offence. He immediately resigned his office as chairman 
of the Prudential Committee, and declined being a candidate for the office 
of Treasurer, lest, as he said, he should come into collision with the pas- 
tor. As not one unkind word had ever passed between me and the for- 
mer Treasurer, I was surprised that he should have assigned such a rea- 
son. A few days after this, I was standing on the steps of the meeting- 
nous* with deacon Vinton, Mr. Hay ward, Mr. Dunham, and Mr. Howe, 
consulting as to the manner in which the pioposed alteration should be 
made. The deacon then and there addressed me in such unfeeling terms, 
and manifested such a spirit and temper, and cast such censure on me for 
what I had done, that Mr. Dunham, (who was then friendly to me,) 
said as soon as the deacon had gone, " How unkind it is for the old man 
to talk to you in such a manner, considering what you have done for the 
Society 1 J had fairly to bite my lips to keep from blowing him sky high 
for his abuse of you " 1 went into my house with a heavy heart. I felt 
grieved that I should be so censured by my deacon who did not come 
among us till the meeting house was nearly finished, who had taken no 
stock in it, and who refused to buy a pew on the day of the public sale, 
though he was, at the time of which I speak, the owner of one of the 
best pews in the house, which cost originally 275 dollars, but which he 
had puichased for 100 dollars of Mr. Robert Living, the former owner, 
who had removed to New York. From that day forward 1 heartily wish- 
ed myself disconnected from the deacons, and expressed a strong desire 
to my wife, that Providence would open some door by which I could get 
away from them without injuring the Church and Society. As I wished 
for peace I was cautious about speaking of these things to any one but 
Mrs. F.; and though she deeply sympathized with me then as now, yet 
as the people were generally so well united in me, she thought that it was 
not my duty to break away from them on account of the unkind feelings 
of my deacons. 

k < [ now come to quite an eventful period in my history. And as I shall 
have frequent occasion to refer to a Board of Referees for proof of what 
I am going to say, Fmust anticipate a little, and state, for the information 
of the public, that on the 8th day of May, 1844, a meeting was held at 
South Boston, to investigate charges against my moral character, in which 
the deacons were especially concerned. By mutual consent the difficul- 
ties between us were referred to the examination and decision of three 
pastors and three laymen of sister Churches. Pastors — Rev. Messrs. 
Hubbard Winslow, Nehemiah Adams and William A. Stearns. Laymen 
— Deacons Nathaniel Dana, Daniel Noyes, and Col. Thomas M. Vinson. 
These gentlemen constituted what was called a Board of Referees. 

I will now return to my narrative ; and in order that the case may be 
fully understood, I must go back to the year 1834. In November of that 
year, a young lady by the name of Roxana Davis came to reside in my 
family as a boarder. She had been hopefull/ converted nuder my min- 
istry and had joined the Church at our communion in the month of May 
preceding. She was a female of unblemished character, and had the es- 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 11 

teem and confidence of all the best people in the place who had any ac- 
quaintance with her. As my daughter had just gone from home to reside 
abroad, Mrs. F. and myself received Miss D. to supply the vacancy thus 
made in the family, and we have ever since regarded her very much in the 
light of a daughter. After residing with us about fifteen months, she, 
was married to her present husband, Mr. Nahum Dunbar, a very worthy 
citizen of South Boston. They commenced house-keeping in the Spring 
of 1836, in a house which he purchased at a short distance from my own, 
where they still reside. Our families, as was most natural, were quite 
intimate, so much so, that in passing and repassing we stepped into 
each other's houses almost 'daily without ringing or knocking, and at 
either the front or side door as was most convenient. Being somewhat 
methodical and uniform in my habits of business, 1 was accustomed for 
years to attend to my worldly affairs soon after dinner. Most of the men 
with whom I had any secular transactions, whether shop-keepers, or pain- 
ters, or carpenters, or laborers to saw my wood, work in my garden, he, 
lived near or beyond Mr. D's. In going or returning 1 frequently called 
there without ceremony, just as though it were the home of my daughter 
or sister. Mr. D. too, had the reading of my papers, which if I were 
going past I would call and leave. This excited, in the first place, the 
envy probably, and then the jealousy of Mrs. Howe, living on the opposite 
side of the street, the wife of Mr. Cranston Howe, now of the Custom 
House. She stated to the Referees that she employed herself for three 
years in watching at the window to see when 1 went there, and as I was 
more likely to call about 2 o'clock,|P. M., than any other hour, for the 
reason above mentioned, she fancied that I went there by a pre-concerted 
signal, and for an unworthy object. She thought that there was something 
in the position of the window blinds or curtains which was an invitation 
for me to call. At length she persuaded her husband to watch too. In 
the early part of May 1841, Mrs. F. went a journey to visit fher friends 
at the South, and returned the latter part of July. During her absence 
I took my meals at Mr. Dunbar's, but studied and lodged at home. While 
there, I promised Mrs. D. that when my plums were ripe she should have 
some of them. Accordingly about the middle of August, the plums be- 
ing ripe, I took a few of them from the tree and put them on my study 
table. As I was going to the store adjoining Mr. D's house to purchase 
some tape by which to fasten my grape vine upon the trellis, and thinking 
when I went out that I had put the plums into my pocket, 1 called to 
leave them before I went into the store. As soon as I entered the door 
I told Mrs. D. that I had fulfilled my promise in bring her the plums, 
and was going to take them out of my pocket, lest I should injure them 
by sitting down, when [ discovered that I had not taken them from my 
table. I mentioned the fact to her, and told her that I was going into 
the store for an article, but would certainly bring them in that afternoon. 
I passed immediately into the store, fpurchased my tape, and in a short 
time returned to Mrs. D's with the plums. The watchers, finding that I 
had been there twice in one afternoon, thought it high time that something 
should be done. Accordingly, Mr. Howe, instead of coming to me for 
an explanation, (if any explanation was necessary,^ communicates 



12 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

the mater privately and confidentially to deacon Vinton. And then the 
deacon goes to watching, In a few days deacon Drake is let into the se- 
cret and he too goes to watching. In the meantime Mr. Howe says not 
one word to me. neither does he consult my friends, but goes to the dea- 
cons who, as lie well knew, had long been unfriendly to me. This was 
in August 1841. On the 27th day of that month, (and all this came 
out before the Referees) as I was going to pay a bill to Mr. Conley, my 
carpenter, about 2 o'clock P. M., which I had promised on the proceeding 
evening to pay that day, and as the Missionary Herald had just arrived, 
I took Mr. D's number, who was a aubscriber, and called to leave it at 
his house. I tarried fifteen or twenty minutes, and then passed on some 80 
or 100 rods beyond to pay the bill. [ raw nothing and thought nothing 
of deacon Vinton till I was putting the money into Mr. C's hand. At 
that moment he entered the door of the Vestry of the Methodist meeting 
house where Mr. C. was, with myself and another man whose name I do 
not remember. I saluted the deacon, very pleasantly, and said something 
about the importance of paying our debts as we went along ; when he 
replied that 1 owed him a debt or he owed me one;. I do not recollect 
which. This he said in such a tone of voice and with such an expression of 
countenance, (though possibly not observed by Mr. C. who was then occu- 
pied with another gentleman,) that I took him by the arm and walked away 
with him,lesthe should say something to expose his fiery temper. (for he w T as 
very combustible) in the presence of those two gentlemen. I asked him to 
explain himself about the debt. He immediately replied in a very angry 
manner, " You are a bad man. We have lost ali confidence in you." 
with some other similar expressions. I asked him what he meant! He 
replied, "You know what I mean, for it is something which has taken 
place within half an hour." I told him that it was not half an hour since 
I left my house, and that I had called only on one family, and spoken to 
but one individual. He then gave me to understand that I had been to 
Mrs. D's for a bad purpose, that I had been watched for a long time, and 
that I went there by a signal. Some of my friends to whom I have re- 
lated this interview, have said that it would have been well if I had had 
the organ of combattiveness pretty strongly developed. But whether it 
would have been well or not, certain it is that my head has no such bump, 
as all will admit before I get through my story. 

After telling the deacon that he had better be cautious as to what he 
said, I asked him who were associated with him in this matter? But he 
refused to name them. He assured me, however, that they did not wish 
to make any public attack on my character, and that they would doubtless 
be willing to keep silent, if I w T ould resign my office as pastor of that 
church. On our return we passed Mr. D.'s house which fronts on B. 
street and ends on Broadway. As we were passing the house he pointed 
up to the window blind over the front door, one half of which was open 
three or four inches, and said "that is the signal." I replied that I knew 
nothing of it, and that I never went "there by any signal ; and when I as- 
cended the steps of my own house, some 20 or 30 rods off, I looked at 
the blinds, and could not discover from that position that they were open 
at all. They had every appearance of being entirely closed. 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 13 

Perhaps T had better state here that when this matter was investigated 
before the Referees, it appeared in evidence that the room over the front 
door was occupied at that time by the girl who lived with Mrs. D.; that 
she worked for Mrs. D. in the morning, and attended school in the after- 
noon ; that when she dressed herself for school just before two o'clock, she 
usually opened one half of the blind a little ways for the admission of light 
with the design of closing it before she left the room, which she generally 
did, but sometimes forgot to do it ; that when she returned from school 
and saw it open, she would hasten up stairs to close it, lest Mrs. D. should 
discover it, and reprove her for her forgetfulness, as she had often charged 
her not to leave it open.* The watchers noticed the blind. They also 
noticed that the girl left home about that time, and not knowing that she 
attended school, they inferred that she was sent away for my accommo- 
dation. This circumstance, in the minds of the Referees, weighed not a 
feather, and just so it was with regard to the curtains when that matter 
was investigated. 

This attack upon me by deacon Vinton was on Friday. I requested 
him to keep the matter private, and to invite the persons connected with 
him in this affair, to an interview with me. To this he consented. On 
Saturday morning he informed me that they would see me on Monday at 
5 o'clock, but not sooner, in his counting room. He, however, gave no 
intimation who they were. This state of ignorance and suspense to a sen- 
sitive mind, can be more easily imagined than described. At length the 
hour arrived. I went to the place appointed, and there found deacon 
Drake and Mr. Cranston Howe with deacon Vinton. Soon after the 
subject was introduced, I affirmed my innocence, and told them that I was 
willing to take my oath upon the bible that I never had any improper 
connexion with Mrs. D., and never went there by any signal. I further 
assured them that Mrs. D. was profoundly ignorant of what had taken 
place ; that I had not seen her alone one moment since the deacons* at- 
tack upon me, and had had no communication with her whatever upon 
the subject; that, knowing her innocence, and her excitable temperament, 
I would not on any consideration, have her made acquainted with it, es- 
pecially then, as the time of her confinement was near, which event oc- 
curred just two weeks from the day of the deacons' attack ; that I had 
never allowed myself to converse with her on such topics, and that, to 
disclose the matter to her then, might prove fatal to herself and her ex- 
pected child. And I will here remark that she never did know any thing 
aboui it, or have the least suspicion of it, to my knowledge, (and this she 
solemnly affirmed in the presence of the Referees) till she learnt it more 
than two years after, as coming from the deacons themselves, or from 
some one entrusted with their secrets. And lest I should omit to mention 



* The female who thus testified, had, on the very Sabbath preceding, made a public 
profession of religion, under the authority and by the consent of the deacons. They 
could not impeach this witness, she having been recently converted and received into 
the fold of the Good Shepherd. And truly her testimony was wholly unimpeachable ; 
for she had always sustained an excellent character, though Mr. Howe tried harcTto 
make it appear that she did not occupy that room at the time, but lodged up in the attic, 
just as if he knew better where the girl slept than she dil herself ! 
o 



14 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

it in its proper place, I will here state that on a subsequent occasion, dea- 
con Drake accused me of falsehood for asserting that Mrs. D. was totally 
unacquainted with the matter, and said he had not a doubt that she knew 
all about it before the interview at deacon V 's counting-room. This con- 
versation took place after my return from my journey. I was talking with 
him about the signals, and how 1 had noticed their appeal ance during 
several months alter the matter was made known to me by deacon Vin- 
ton. The truth is, I had never seen them before ; for J did not deem 
the position of my neighbors' blinds or curtains any concern of mine. I 
left them to manage such things in their own way, and according to their 
own taste and convenience. But as the deacons had set me the example, 
I concluded to watch too. I did so till the first of April. And what was 
the result ? Why, the signals appeared more than lorty times, and four 
times during; the two weeks immediately preceding her confinement ; for 
I ma'ked them down in my almanac. But never did I go to the house 
when they appeared. I was stating this fact to deacon Drake, when he 
replied that I had informed Mrs. D. of the matter before our first inter- 
view in deacon Vinton's counting rom ; that 1 had told her how to man- 
age ; and that the signals continued to appear afterwards merelv as a trick 
to delude and blind them. To convince Him of his error, 1 asked him 
what would have been the probable effect on her mind and health, if she 
bad been informed of it in her delicate situation at the time. And as she 
was uncommonly well during those two weeks, and was down stairs sooner 
than common after her confinement, I told him that the natural inference 
was that she knew nothing about it. He replied, u ' She is so hardened 
in sin, that it would not affect her at all." This he said of a female mem- 
ber of the church in high standing, who had never been admonished for 
any delinquency, real or imaginary, and whose character was as fair, for 
aught I know to the contrary, as that of his own wife. 

But to return from this digression to deacon V.'s counting-room. As 
the deacons and Mr. Howe had already judged and condemned me, with- 
out having heard one word from my lips in my own defence; as I believed 
at the time that it was a plot on their part to get rid of a pastor whom 
they disliked ; as not one of them had been near me in private, kindly to 
admonish me for what they supposed to be my fault, agreeably to the di- 
rection of Christ, " If thy brother trespass against thee, go and tell him 
his fault between thee and him alone ;" and as, for these reasons, I was 
unalterably fixed in my determination to leave the church, 1 thought it 
best to enter into some arrangement for that purpose, though expressing 
at the same time my perfect willingness to answer any questions they 
might propose, and make any explanations which it was in my power to 
make. Accordingly questions were asked, and explanations given. But 
explanations to men who had prejudged the case, (and especially to ene- 
mies) were utterly vain. They seemed determined to have things in 
their own way, and to make me out guilty because they wished me so. 
I had, however assured them, at the very commencement of the interview, 
that I should leave ; that i would not stay in connection with men who 
had treated me so, for their weight in gold; that nothing would induce me 
to remain except to defend my character, which was of more value to me 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 15 

than gold ; that I wished to avoid all controversy, and every thing; which 
might mar the harmony of the church and congregation to whose pros* 
perity I had devoted so much labor, and whose disunion and decline could 
give me nothing but pain. I closed by reiterating the declaration that if 
they made any public attack upon my character, I would stay and defend 
myself if it cost me my life. They disclaimed all desire or intention of 
injuring my character, and entered into a solemn agreement not to do so, 
in case I would leave before the dr<t of June. We then separated. 

Within a few days after this Mr. Howe, in an inteiview with me, said 
that he hoped I would not act hastily ; that they might have received 
wrong impressions; — that if I were innocent, I might not to leave, and 
that if any left, it belonged to those who were dissatisfied, rather than to 
me. I told him that I wasu-lad to hear him express such vie as, but they 
made no difference with regard to my leaving, lor leave I should at all 
events, unless it became necessary to remain to defend my character. — 
Similar views were also expressed tome soon after by deacon Vinton. 
But deacon Drake made no such expressions. 

After reflecting for some weeks on the subject, I concluded to release 
them from all obligations of secrecy to me, on the ground that it might, at 
some future day, operate to my injury. And I released them accordingly, 
telling them that they were at liberty to make any attack upon me, if 
they would do it soon, or at least before I left the church, as I could bet- 
ter defend myself while I was pastor, than after my dismission. I told 
them that if they made known their suspicions at ail, they ought to do it 
while I was there, as it would be ungenerous first to disarm a man, and 
then attack him. The) seemed to feel the propriety of this, and I ex- 
pected them to act accordingly. 

When tie above arrangement was made, it was mv understanding with 
them that I should avail m)Self of the first vacancy wh ; ch might occur in 
some church in which it n ight be mutually agreeable for me to labor as 
their pastor ; and that if such a vacancy should occur at any time* no mat- 
ter how soon, 1 should improve it. But my health, having been uncom- 
monly feeble during the preceding summer, was so much impaired within 
a month or two after this arrangement was made, t hat I was totally unfit 
to be a candidate for settlement over any church, not being able to per- 
f)im more than half my usinl services as a pastor. During the month of 
December, 1 was not able to preach at all for three successive Sabbaths. 
Thus I was compelled to look after my health instead of a new church. 
There was a general prostration of strength, an inability to speak in pub- 
lic without great effort and consequent exhaustion ; a want of appetite 
and sleep, and an apparent breaking down of my constitution. How much 
of this prostration and feebleness might have been attributed to the ill 
treatment of my enemies, I will leave others to decide. Deacon Vinton 
admitted before the Relerees that I was sick, but thought that my sick- 
ness was owing to my remorse of conscience. He seemed not to be 
aware that a sensitive man, like myself, could be at all affected in his 
health by a vile aspersion upon his character. 

Such being the state of my health duiing the winter, I began to make 
arrangements early in the spring to take a long journey, designing to leave 



16 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

as soon as the weather had become sufficiently mild to permit me to trav- 
el with comfort and ease. My first calculation was to go to Europe, and 
to spend in travelling on that continent one whole year. But finding it 
somewhat difficult to obtain the necessary funds, and by the advice of 
friends of more experience than m>self, 1 gave up the project the latter 
part of April, and concluded to travel first in my own country, and after- 
wards cross the Atlantic if it should be judged expedient. 

This brings me to that period in my history when I paid the money to 
Rhoda Davidson. I had not seen her, nor heard a word from her for 
nearly five months. But on the 22d day of April, 184^2, while 1 was in 
a state of great feebleness, with the rod of the deacons over my head, she 
came upon me in the manner described in my defence* before the Coun- 
cil. What could I do? How could I refuse to pay the m^ney \Uien 
placed in such a position I My imagination fiist led n e to suppose that 
she might have been instigated to do it by my enemies, and that my only 
way of safety was to close her lips by yielding to her demands. Had 
she put her threat into executton as she said she would, (and 1 believed 
her) unless I paid her money, what would have been the consequence ? 
The deacons would have laid hold upon it with eagerness, and regarded 
it as confirmation strong, that I was guilty of the crime of which they had 
accused me. I should thus, as { then viewed the matter, not only have 
lost my own character, but brought disgrace upon a virtuous woman, 
(Mrs. D.) and her innocent husband, who had always treated me kindly, 
and who had received, in return, nothing but kindness from me. To give 
my enemies an oportunity to inflict such a wound on them, through me, 
was what I could not do, if the payment of money would prevent it. — 
The money was paid. Jf 1 did w T rong, how few, in my circumstances, 
would have done right ? I know that my faith is weak, and my confidence 
in God not what it should be ; and I lament it. But still it is much easier 
to sit calmly in our chair, and talk of trusting in an over-ruling Provi- 
dence, than it is to put that trust into execution in a time of sudden and 
unexpected calamity. I have yet to learn that the peaceful traveller is 
to be blamed for his want of confidence in God, who gives up hrs pui se 
rather than his life to the highwayman. To those who aie disposed to 
censure me in this matter, I will only say, " Let him that is without sin 
cast the first stone. " 

On the first Sabbath in May, 1842,1 preached, though in great feeble- 
ness, my last sermon at the communion, and admitted 34 into the church, 
15 of whom I baptized. That service closed my labors in the Phillips 



*The paper which I read to the Council was called, in the'pnblic prints 'my defence.' 
But this is a misnomer altogether. It did not receive that name from me. It was a 
simple statement of facts with regard to my acquaintance with Rhoda Dividson. It 
was prepared ten days before the meeting of the Council. Of course I could not make 
a defence against testimony till I had heard it. If the public regarded that paper as 
properly my defence, they must have pronounced it a very weak affair indeed. Noth- 
ing of this kind was intended by me when I wrote it. I expected to have mode my 
defence when the evidence was all in ; but as it was then proposed to submit thp case 
without argument on either side, I yielded the point, and thus lost the opportunity of 
making any defence at all. 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED 17 

Church. 1 was then prepared to ask a dismission, provided the deacons and 
Mr. Howe had not made known their suspicions which I gave them liberty 
to do some months before if they saw fit ; for had they done so, I was de- 
termined not to resign my office, but to go my journey and defend myself 
on_my return, or to die abroad, if God so willed it, without any public 
defence. At this time it was quite problematical whether I should resign 
or not. True, it was in my heart to resign, and I had so intimated to 
some confidential friends ; but there was a contingency connected with 
it, which might or might not prevent me from such an act. That con- 
tingency was the revealing or not revealing the matter by my watchers. 
which could not have been known by me for certainty til! the time of my 
contemplated resignation had arrived. After preaching my last sermon I 
went first to Mr. Howe and asked him if he had spoken of the matter to 
any one. He assured me that he had not. I then requested him to 
renew his promise that he n^ver would speak of it. That promise he 
readily made. I then went to deacon Vinton, and had a similar interview 
with him, and received a similar promise ; and the same with deacon 
Drake. 

The way being thus prepared for me to resign, the following letter was 
read from the pulpit by the Rev. Mr. Smith, at the close of the afternoon 
service, May 15, 1842. 



TO THE MEMBERS OF THE PHILLIPS CHURCH AND SCM2.1KTY'. 

Beloved Brethren and Friends : — 

You are aware that my health has been such 
since last October, as to unfit me. in a great measure, for discharging my duties as 
your pastor and teacher. By the advice of my physician I am about to journey for 
several months, as the most probable means of regaining my former strength and abil- 
ity to preach the gospel, and to perform the other duties pertaining to the christian 
ministry. After mature deliberation, and much prayer to God for his guidance and 
counsel, r have come to the conclusion that it is my duty to resign my pastoral office, 
and seek a dissolution of the connection by which we have been united together, as min- 
ister and people, for more than fourteen years. Having come to this conclusion, I 
hereby request that my pastoral relation to you may be dissolved as soon as it can be 
done legally, and in accordance with ecclesiastical usage in like cases. Such is my 
constitutional temperament, that I can indulge very little hope of a restoration to health 
so long as I feel the weight of a pastor's responsibility resting upon me., And it will: 
be wholly beyond my power to throw off this responsibility so long as I remain your 
pastor, Let me travel in whatever country I may, and- at whatever distance from home, 
still it will be utterly impossible to get rid of the cares, anxieties and responsibilities 
peculiar to my office. And unless my mind can be perfectly at ease in this matter, I 
feel as though journeying would do me but little good. Indeed, I fear that it would 
profit me nothing. The consequence would probably be, that, after spending months 
in the fruitless pursuit of health, I should be compelled to make the same request which 
I now make, and under circumstances not so favorable to your continued peace and 
prosperity as exist at the present lime. If I am not deceived, the first wish of my heart, 
so far as you are concerned, is, that you may be a united and prosperous people. But 
you have already suffered in some degree, from the fact that you have had for several 
months, so little of a pastor's care and watch ; and to have that care and watch wholly 
cease for several months to come, must operate greatly to your embarrassment and 
injury. Situated as you are, I feel as though a stated pastor among you was indispen- 
sab'.e to your well-being ; and feeling this, I- should consider myself quite culpable if I 
did not declare it to you, and urge you to unite, as speedily as possible, in choosing some 
one to succeed me, who will watch. over you with a pastor's car e, and devote his time,. 
talents and prayers to promote union among you, and advanc e your spiritual growth-, 
and prosperity. 

2* 



13 INIQUITY UN FOLDED. 

If any of you should ask whether the want of health is my only reason for requesting 
a dismission, I would reply that although a hundred oiher reasons might actually exist 
in my mind, yet ill-health alone would compel me to make the request contained in this 
communication ; a request which I now urge you to grant with nn importunity which 
cannot be denied. Indeed, if you are my friends. I am sure that there will be no denial. 
A unanimous vote granting my request, I should regard as evidence of far greater 
friendship for me than the unanimous invitation which was given me to becnme your 
pastor. And if you, who are most attached to me. and most affectionate as parishioners, 
wish to give me one more proof of your friendship. you will do it by aiding me in ob- 
taining the object which I now have in view. However grateful I may be for your past 
nets of kindness, I should feel that a readiness to grant my present request would be 
an act of kindness outweighing all others, and for which yon shall receive my warmest 
thanks as long as I live. If you desire the restoration of my health, and my contin- 
uance in the ministry of Christ, you will best prove your desire by giving me your ready 
co-operation in bringing about the dissolution of our present connects n. And I do hope 
and entreat that none of you will come to me for the purpose of urging reasons why I 
should withdraw my request, even for a few months ; for though I should appreciate 
highly your motives, and thank you kindly for your good wishes, yet my mind is fixpd 
— unalterably fix< j d, that it is my duty to leave you ; a duty which I owe to myself 
and you ; and above all, to the Great Head of the Church. If he has any more work 
for me to do in his vineyard, sure I am it is not to be done here. It may I e that He. 
in his infinite wisdom, has determined that my labors, as a pastor, shall wholly cense. 
If so, I hope for grace to sav, n Thy will be done.'' This is a matter which I desire 
submissively to leave with him. .And although my only means of subsistence is my 
salary, which now ceases, yet I feel an assurance that the same kind Providence who 
has hitherto supplied my wants, and who feeds-the young ravens, wd! not permit me 
or mine to suffer through hunger or cold or nakedness. I doubt not thai he will provide 
kind friends to take care of me. and to whom he will say in the last day, " Inasmuch 
as ye have done it unto one of the least of ihese mv brethren, ye have dene it unto me." 
I hope there will be no complaining of that dispensation ol Providence whicti seems 
to require our separation. Andsuie I am. That there will be no complaint if we will 
only look back to the time when we first came together, and trace the dealings of God 
toward us from that period to the present day. You were then a feeble band. The 
church consisted of only thirty-seven members, and such had been your trials and dis- 
couragements, that it was quite doubtful, for some months, whether yon would disband, 
and give up the ground to be occupied by another denomination, or make one further 
effort to gain stiength sufficient to retain your existence as a distinct church and society. 
Just at this interesting crisis a kind Providence directed my steps hither, and the con- 
sequence was, that a united and pressing invitation was given me 10 become your pas- 
tor. By the advice and urgent request of the late Dr. Wisner. then pastor of the Old 
South Church, your invitation was; accepted ; not because this was the most inviting 
field of labor that presented itself to my notice, nor because I was in pursuit of ease. 
worldly honor or interest ; but because it was deeply impressed on my mind that duty 
to Christ required me to come and labor among you, hoping under God, that I might 
be the means of saving you, as a church, irom utter extinction. At that time,, neither 
you nor I had much reason to expect that our connection would continue for more than 
three years. But it has continued for fourteen } r ears and a half. And now 7 behold 
what great things the Lord hath done for us. Since, the time of my installation, we 
have admitted into membership in this church 3^6 ; of this number 251 still remain 
connected with us, and the congiegation has increased in about the same proportion. 
Instead, therefore, of complaining that God in his Providence seems now- to require our 
separation, we ought to thank and praise him that our connection has been Continued 
so long. In this day of fickleness and change, when so many churches are divided. 
and when ministers are so frequently dismissed, ii is a matter of devout gratitude to God 
that we have lived thus long together with so much harmony and prosperity. 

I not only came here first from a conviction of duty, as I just now intimated, but the 
same conviction of duly has prevailed on me to reaiatn till the present time. Although 
it. did seem for a while that I ought to accept the call which was given me in 1833, by 
the First Church in Newburyport, yet afier long reflection and much counsel, I became 
fully satisfied that du?y required me to return io that call a negative answer. But now 
the scene is changed, and the same conviction of ditty which brought me here at first, 
and has continued me here unto this day, now declares in a voice which I cannot mis- 
understand, that I must kave you. Nine years ago it was my design and desire to 
have lived and died among you, and to have my dust mingled with yours. But God 
seems now to say that it must not be so^ And let us cheerfully submit to his holy will, 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 19 

arid acknowledge that he does all things well. Whether I shall ever be able to preach 
again is known only to God. But I shall never cease to take a deep interest in yoar 
welfare. I shall rejoice if you prosper, and grieve if you decline. I have no feelings 
of enmity toward one of you ; but I wis ■ you all well in time and in eternity. I have 
endeavored to treat you kindly and seek your good ; and wherein I have failed, T crave 
your forgiveness. My heart's desire and prayer to God is. that you may suffer no det- 
riment in consequence of my leaving you, but rather that you may thereby be profited 
in things spiritual and in things temporal. Bat no such good result can be expected 
without much prayer, watchfulness and forbearance on your part. You must love one 
another with pure hearts fervently, and strive to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond 
of peace. By so doing you cannot fail to be a prosperous, useful and happy church. — 
But if a spirit of discord, alienation and strife enter in among you, then there will fol- 
low division, confusion ; and every evil work. May God in mercy prevent this! May 
he unite your hearts in love, that you may long know by experience the blessedness of 
those who dwell together in unity. 

Finally, dear brethren and friends, farewell ! Be perfect. Be of good comfort. Be 
of one mind. Live in peace ; an 1 the God of love a"d peace shall be with you. 

Your affectionate Pastor, 

J. H. FAIRCHILD. 

Botson, May, 15, 1812. 

The day after the above letter was read, a parish meeting was held in 
the Vestry, to act on that communication. The following is a copy of 
their doings. 

At a regular meeting of the J' Phillips Church Society," in Boston, held May 16th, 
1812, the following revives were passed be a unanimous vote. 

Whereas the Rev. J. H. Fairehild has felt it his duty, in consequence of ill health, to 
request a dismission from his pastoral relation to the Phillips Church Society: — 

Resolved, That while we deeply resrret the state of his health, aud feel grateful for 
his long continued exertions in promoting the temporal and spiritual interests of this 
Society, yet in view of all the circumstances, and of his urgent desire, this Society 
hereby grant his request. 

Resolved, That Josiah Vinton and Charles J. F. Allen be a committee to unite with 
Mr. Fairchild, and such eommit'ee as the Church may appoint, in calling a mutual 
C(uncil to dissolve his pastoral relation to this Church and Society, according to eccle- 
siastical usage. 

A true copy of record, 

Attest, ALVAN SIMONDS, Clerk." 

It will be remembered that in this meeting were present the deacons 
and Mr. Howe. The next morning- 1 received a note from deacon Drake, 
in reply to one which I had sent him some few days preceding. The 
occasion of my note was this. When I called on him after preaching my 
lsat sermon, to reqnest him to renew his promise, which he did, he 
said some hard things tome which deeply wounded my feelings; but 
as it was don^ in the Freeman's Bank, I had there no opportunity to 
make any reply. On my return to my study I wrote him a kind letter, 
expressing my regret that he should indulge such feelings towards me, 
and entreating him to let me know wherein I had injured him by word or 
deed, that I might make him all suitable reparation before I left, a? we 
might not meet again till we met at the judgment seat of Christ. The 
morning after the above-named parish meeting was held, he replied to my 
letter, and said many unkind things, telling me that I was no christian ; 
representing me as a hypocrite ; stating that it was in his power to make 
me an object of scorn and contempt, or words to that effect : and closed 
by intimating that he should take an opportunity of stating to some friend 



20 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

what he had accused me of, with all the circumstances of the case, that 
he might get his opinion whether he had treated me wrongfully or not. 
Thus it appears that as soon as my resignation was read and accepted, he 
threatens to violate his promise by commencing an attack upon rny char- 
acter. I immediately replied to his note, stating that if he had sent it 
before my letter of resignation was read, I should not have resigned my 
office. 1 thought it most unkind to disarm a man by fair promises, and 
then turn round and threaten to stab him. I have no copy of those let- 
ters, for reasons which will be stated in their proper place. Of course I 
quote from memory. But those letters were placed in the hands of the 
Referees or promised to be ; and to them I refer for the truth of what I 
now state. Or if they did not read my correspondence with deacon 
Drake, when in secret session, the deacon has my full permission to pub- 
lish my letters, in connection with his own, to the world. 

The next day after the parish meeting, the Church met in the Vestry. 
The following is a copy of their doings. 

"Whereas the Rev. Joy H. FairehiUl, by a communication dated 15th inst., has re- 
signed the office of Pastor of the Phillips Church and Society on account of ill-health, 
and expressed an earnest desire that his pastoral relation may be dissolved as soon as 
it may conveniently, in accordance with ecclesiastical usaye. Therefore, 

Resolved, That this Church comply with Rev. Mr. Fairchild's request, and that 
Alvan Simonds, Ebenezer Hnyward and Thomas Blasland, be a committee to unite 
with the Pastor and committee of the Society in calling a Council to consummate the 
dismission. 

Resolved, That this Church deeply regret the enfeebled state of Mr. Fairchild's 
health, which causes his dismission ; sympathizing with him in his weakness and af- 
fliction, and hoping that by travel and a season of rest from the trials and labors of an 
arduous profession, he may be restored to health, and enabled to resume the duties of 
the ministry, wherever God in hrs Providence may call him. 

Resolved, That this Church bears grateful testimony to the ability, faithtulness 
and discretion with which Mr. Fairchild has, for more than fourteen years, exercised 
the pastoral office among us, and that we regard him as sound in doctrine, and a suc- 
cessful advocate of divine truth. 

The above resolutions were passed at a meeting of the Church held Tuesday even- 
ing, May 17th, 1842. 

Attest, ALBERT DRAKE, Church Clerk." 

The deacons and Mr. Howe were present in this meeting, and as I was 
informed, deacon Drake presided, and opened the meeting with prayer. 
But they were silent, and uttered not one note of remonstance against 
the proceedings, thus permitting the Church to recommend a clergyman 
as in good standing and worthy of confidence, whom they regarded as a 
hypocrite, and no christian ! Will it he said that they we^re under an 
obligation not to remonstrate ? True. But when was that obligation (o 
cease its binding force? Not till the judgment of the great day. They 
had had full liberty to make their suspicions known for eight long months. 
But they omitted to do it. Alter that the time for disclosing was past. 
Their )ips were to be forever sealed. But surely if they were ever to 
open their lips at all on the subject, that was the time when the Church 
were passing their votes of recommendation. It cannot be said, with 
any show of truth, as they now pretend, that I had violated the condition 
of silence by visiting my former parishioners, whether the family of Mr. 
Dunbar or any other. [Nothing of the kind was said, or even intimated 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 21 

in our agreement. I fulfilled my part of the contract to the very letter. 
How shamefully they have violated theirs, will be more clearly seen in 
the progress of my story. 

The n^xt day 1 commenced my journey ; and on the 2d day of June 
the Council assembled for my dismission. The following is a copy of 
their doings and result. 

"The Rev. G. W. Blagden was chosen Moderator, and Rev. N. Adams, Scribe. — 
Prayer by the Moderator. The letter missive was read. A communication from Rev. 
Jttir. -Fairchilil to the Phillips Church and Society; dated May 15th, 1842, was read, by 
which it appears that the state of Mr. Fail-child's health compels him to relinquish his 
pastoral charge, with a view to that entire freedom from care and anxiety, which, in 
his opinion, is essential to a hope of his recovery. 

The doings of the Church and Society were preserved and read After inquiries of 
the committee by members of the Council with regard to Mr. Fairehild's health', the 
Council, being by themselves, it was 

Voted, That, in the opinion of this Council, there are sufficient reasons in the Rev 
Mr. Fairehild's statements with regard to his health, to justify the dissolution of his 
connection with his people, according to his request, and it is hereby dissolved. 

The Council would express their entire confidence in the ChriMian and ministerial 
character of Rpv. Mr. Fairehild. They have long known him and esteemed him as a 
devoted minister of Christ, whose labor-, have been much blessed; and it givesjthem 
pleasure to recommend him as a faithful preacher and pastor to any people who may 
seek his labors, if he should be able to resume them. 

Signed, G. W. BLAGDEN, Moderaior. 

N. ADAMS, Scribe. 
A true copy from the original, 

ALVAN SIMONDS, Clerk of the- Society. 

Now mark : deacon Vinton, who was one of the Committee, was 
doubtless present at the meeting of the Council, of whom inquiries were 
made with regard to my health and other reasons, if any existed, why I 
had resigned my office. And yet he permits the Council to dismiss me 
wiih clean papers, recommending me in the highest terms, to any people 
who may seek my labors, if 1 should be able to resume then). And yv,\, 
at this very time, the deacon regarded me as a liar, and totally unworthy 
the confidence of the Christian community! 

f returned from my journey on the 8th day of Sept. 1842, having travel- 
led in various directions, nearly four thousand miles, with my health some- 
what improved, but far from being confirmed. During my absence the 
Rev. Piince Hawes, my predecessor in the Phillips Church, once settled 
in Glastenbury near E. Hartford, visited S. Boston on business with Mr. 
Josiah Dunham ; and Mr. D. being greatly at enmity with me, let his 
feelings be known to Mr. Hawes ; and Mr. II. wishing to sell Mr. D. his 
houses, (which he did soon after,) doubtless found it for his advantage to 
join Mr. D. in casting reproach on me. Soon after Mr. Hawes returned, as 
I have reason to believe from certain circumstances which have come to 
my knowledge, he wrote a confidential letter to Mr. D. adverting 
to the East Hartford story, and referring to deacon Pitkin and Martin 
Stanley. In a letter written by deacon Vinton to Rev. Mr. Spring of E. 
Hartford, dated October 1842, to make inquiries about my moral charac- 
ter, the deacon mentions having seen a letter written by a clergyman for- 
merly settled in Connecticut, but carefully withholds the name. I became 
well satisfied that that clergyman was Mr. Hawes ; and put the question 



2*2 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

to deacon V. and he did not deny it. Poor business for Mr. H. ! I 
desire to say nothing about him. But for the information of those who 
may wish to inquire, I will refer them to the records of the Phillips 
Church, or to Messrs Artemas Simonds, Joseph Johnson, and to two 
gentlemen who were then memheis of Park Street Church, if I remem- 
ber correctly their names are Hacllv and Bates. Or if these gentlemen 
have no information to impart, then I would refer the inquirer to Mrs. 
Dunham ; for report says that she knew more about him than any body 
else. The second and third Sabbaths in Sept. after my return, I attended 
public worship in the Phillips Church with my family, as a hearer, and 
was cordially greeted by every body, except the deacons, the Dunhams, 
and the Howes. They all looked daggers. On the afternoon of the 
second Sabbath I was requested by a young couple, who had joined the 
church under toy ministry, to baptize their little child. As I thought it 
would appear churlish in me to decline, I consented to do it. For this act 
deacon V. sent me a note the next day, virtually expelling me [from the 
meeting house. And I did then leave the house with m) family, and have 
not entered it since. This was the fust intimation the deacon ever gave me 
that his object was to exclude me from the right of performing the func- 
tions of a minister, either in that Church on any other. Skit he thought 
he had me in his paver, and uugh) therefore treat me as he pleased, while 
I should not dare to remonstrate. I immediately wrote him a long, kind 
and faithful letter, ^ivini{ my views of his conduct in full, from the begin- 
ning. It seemed to me an act of great cruelty and injustice, thus to ban- 
ish me from a house which 1 had built for them, and to pay for which 
including she or.an, clock and land. ) I had beg<ed six thousand and 
fine huidrcd dolhtrs, not one eem of which was owmed by me It was 
all in possession of the Church and Society. 

My letter to deacon V. uave him great offence. He soon sought an 
interview with me, and gave me distinctly to understand that he consid- 
ered himself released from all obligation not to attack my character 
and that he was at liberty to m^ike his suspicions known to the woild or 
not just as he thought proper, To this course I sirongly objected ; but 
without avail. Accordingly lie soon writes the letter toMr. Spring above 
alluded to. in which he mentions his suspicions as to the cause of my leaving 
the Church in Suuih Boston, and says he has been informed that i left East 
Hartjbrd for a similar reason. He says, too, that rather than have 
his suspicions made known, 1 consented to resign my office ; but he care- 
fully omits to state that he solemnly promised to keep his suspicions to 
himself. This he would not mention, because the very act of writing 
that letter would disclose his tieachery in violating his promise. Mr. 
Spring returns an answer ; and one sentence in his letter, disconnected 
from what precedes and follows it, would make an unfavorable impression 
with regard to my character; whereas the whole letter taken together, 
would do me no injury at all. Previous to the receipt of this letter from 
Mr. Spring, deacon Drake had told me in a private interview, that I left 
East Hartford because my character suffered there, and that they had 
written a letter (referring, I suppose, to deacon Vinton's) and that they 
should soon know all about it. Thus they were sending forth their mis- 



lNIQUlTi UNFOLDED. £3 

siles of death to destroy a man who had done them no wrong, and whom 
they had promised never to injure. I then stated to deacon Drake ver- 
bally, and afterwards in writing, the true reason of my leaving East Hart- 
ford. But he said that my statement was false ; that I was a bad man 
there ; that I came to South Boston a bad man, and had been a bad man 
ever since, and that he would do all he could to get me out of the minis- 
try.* All this was said and done, be it remembered, after he had prom- 
ised to let me alone, and do nothing to injure me. I immediately copied 
the substance of what I had stated in my letter to the deacon as the cause 
of my leaving East Hartford, and in a few days went to Connecticut, 
read the paper to the surviving deacons of my former Church, to which 
they most readily gave their signatures as literally true. 

To Deacon Drake : — 

Sir, — The cause of my a.-kmg a dismission from East Hart- 
ford was this. There was a male member of that Church, who, at that time, possessed 
some character and influence, — a man of fiery temper and uncontrolled passions, who 
became strongly prejudiced agamst me, and took frequent opportunities, both in public 
and private^ to abu^e and insult me. He at length became so abusive that I felt my 
person to be in danger. Having made up my mind, in consequence of this treatment, : 
to ask a dismission, I invited my four de icons to come to my house on a certain even- 
ing in June, 1827. I then laid open my whole heart before them, and stated to vhem 
explicitly that my mind was unalterably fixed on asking a dismission, and assured them 
that the sole reason which had brought me to such a determination was the ill-treat- 
ment of that individual. True. I might have slated some minor circumstances uhich 
nad some influence on my mind, but these were of so little consequence that I cannot 
how call them to my remembrance. The deacons remonstrated, and said it must not 
be. But I persisted. They at length concluded to meet me again in two weeks; and 
in the mean time they would inquire what the feelings of the people were in relation to 
the subject. They came again at the appointed time, and assured me that they could 
not find more than six individuals who wished me to leave. They told me they did not 
believe that there was any parish in that region where the people were better united in 
their minister. But I assured them that I considered my person in danger, and there- 
fore could neither be happy nor useful in remaining any longer the pastor of that 
Church I obtained my dismission, and the individual wtio caused it has since been 
excommunicated from the Church, neglects religious meetings, and, as I am informed, 
avows himself an infidel Two out of the lour deacons have since died, viz. Epaphras 
Rid well and Samuel Pitkin. Two of them are now living, Their names are John 
Judson and E dab Pratt. Better friends 1 have not in the world ; and such were the 
two who are now dead. If you think that this statement is incredible, I doubt not but 
that the two living 'deacons will readily give their testimony to its truth. 

We hereby certify that the above statement of the cause wdiich induced Mr. Fair- 
child to as^ a dismission from the Church in East Hartford is strictly true. We further 
certify that, the above account of the interviews and conversation between Mr. Fair- 
child and the deacons of the Church, is also true. 

Signed, ELIAB PRATT. 

JOHN JUDSON. 
East Hartford, Nov. 17, 18-12. 

After deacon Judson had signed the paper, he went out with me to my 
chaise ; and as I was getting into it, he said, "there are hundreds in East 
Hartford who would sign that paper, for they know it to be true." 

Some few weeks after I had returned to Boston with the above paper, 
signed by deacons Pratt and Judson, 1 learnt from deacon Drake that a 



* He has recently slated the same, in substance, to Mrs. C, a worthy member of the 
Phillips Church. 



24 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

letter had been received confirming all they had said about my character 
while in East Hartford. I immediately requested Mr. Howe to come to 
my house with the deacons, that I might know the contents of that letter. 
This, if I remember right, was about the middle of December, 1842, pos- 
sibly a little later. They came into my study about 8 o'clock in the even- 
ing. I then requested the reading of the letter. Deacon Vinton object- 
ed ; but took from his pocket-book a small slip of paper, on which he had 
copied a single extract from that letter, which he read. I requested that 
the whole letter might be read ; but he refused. I then entreated him 
to name the writer. This he also declined. I then took from the drawer 
of my study table the testimonials of character which I brought with me 
from Connecticut, all of which had been in the hands of deacon Drake 
before my settlement in South Boston. I read them deliberately in their 
presence ; and when I came to the paper just signed by deacons Pratt 
and Judson, putting the stamp of falsehood on what they had said about 
the cause of my leaving East Hartford, one of the deacons replied, that that 
paper did not amount to much ; that it was written by myself, and that 
those gentlemen would of course sign it, because I requested them to do 
so ! I immediately rose from seat, not a little excited, and thus ad- 
dressed them : — "Gentlemen, those papers testify to the character which 
I brought with me from Connecticut. [ claim the same character still ; 
and now promise me before you leave this room that you will stop in your 
attempts to rob me of my good name, or else to-morrow morning, if God 
give me strength to do it, I will go out and proclaim your conduct to the 
world, assemble my friends around me ; call on them for protection, and 
avow myself a candidate for re-settlement over the Phillips Church as 
soon as my health will permit. Now take your choice." They then, 
for the first time, exhibited symptoms of alarm. They promised that 
they would stop there, and do nothing more to my injury. I told them 
that was all I wanted ; that I wished only to be let alone ; that I had no 
desire to settle again in Souih Boston, and could not be prevailed on to 
do so, except to save my character from their unjust aspersions. At the 
close of that interview, Mr. Howe said, " Now the matter is forever set- 
tled. The covenant is signed, sealed and delivered, which is the end of 
all strife." "Very well," I replied, and we separated. 

But that letter from East Hartford gave me not a little uneasiness. I 
wished to know the author. In a few days I met deacon Vinton, and 
again requested the name of the writer. But he still refused. He, how- 
ever, said it was a gentleman who flourished a good deal in my letters of 
recommendation which I had read to him in my study. Recollecting he 
had previously said that the writer resided in East Hartford, and knowing 
that I had no letter of recommendation written by any gentleman in that 
place then living, except Mr. Spring, I immediately wrote him a letter of 
inquiry. He replied that deacon V. had written, and that he had an- 
swered him. He gave me a very satisfactory explanation as to what he 
had written ; assured me that the letter, as a whole, could have done me 
no harm, and regretted that the deacon had not read to me the whole of 
it. I then wrote to Mr. Spring again, and requested him to write to dea- 
con V., and tell him that he had misapprehended the meaning of his let- 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED 25 

ter, as I preferred not to have any further conversation with him on the 
subject. Instead of writing to the deacon Mr. Spring wrote again to me, 
and the following is that portion of his letter which relates to the subject 
of my request. 

East Hartford, January 14, 1843. 
BIy Dear Brother : — 

Yours of the 2d inst. was received rather out of course of mail, 
but has been on hand a few days. I should have replied to it sooner, but have been 
immeasurably pressed with parochial duties. 

I have written but once to your former deacon, and [ prefer not to resume my cor- 
respondence with him, lest it should create a draft on my time, patience and sensibili- 
ties, which I could ill afford to answer. I am the more confirmed in this apprehension 
alter noticing the opinion you have formed of him in an acquaintance cf years. With 
such a man I would not desire to get into a quarrel, and to avoid it, I would have as 
little to do with him as possible .* When I wrote him I did it ignorantly and in mis- 
apprehension. My mistake I have endeavored to correct as far as respects yourself, 
and I now give you full authority to correct any he may possibly have formed from 
my letter, though a fair construction of the whole of it will not allow him to be in 
error respecting my opinion. I authorise you, then, to say to him from me, (using 
this or my last letter to you, or both,or neither, as you please, for proof.) that no charge 
of a criminal nature was brought before the Council at the time of your dismission ; 
nor was a whisper uttered derogatory to your character as a christian minister; nor 
did a thought, so far as I know, even enter the mind of one of them that would impli- 
cate your parity or morality in any respect. Further, I authorize you to say that while 
reports unfavorable to you have since been circulated among this people, I have reason 
to believe they originated with your personal enemies, and I have not a doubt they 
are malicious and false. They are not believed by nine-tenths of the people, and the 
cordiality and respect with which they teat you when you occasionally visit them, is 
evidence enough of the kind of estimation in which the mass of the people still hold 
you. 

This I think, my dear brother, will correct any misapprehension which my letter 
may possibly have occasioned ; and there is one reason why it should be in your pos- 
session rather than in his. You can use it when and how you please. He might not be 
disposed to use it at all. Men are usually not prompt to correct their own mistakes. 
If this does not answer the purpose, 1 may think it my duty to be more explicit, and to 
resume a correspondence with him. I should do it with no little reluctance. 
Yours in haste and affectionately, 

S. SPRING. 

This letter was read in the presence of deacon Vinton before the Re- 
ferees. And yet I have been told that he has since shown that same ex- 
tract to many individuals, to my injury. He was present at the*; session 
of the Council in Exeter, and exhibited that extract, as I have been in- 

* When this paragraph was read befoje the Referees, the deacon's excitement was 
beyond description. He produced a letter from me (which I wish he would publish,) 
in which I assured him that I had no desire to injure his character ; that I had said no- 
thing to his prejudice ; that I should act, as I had done from the beginning, solely on 
the defensive; and that if a stranger were to make inquiries of me concerning him, I 
should say all the good of him that I could, and avoid the evil. Here he seemed to 
triumph, because, as he thought, he had caught me in a falsehood. The truth is that 
my letter to deacon V. in which the above expressions are found, or similar ones, (for I 
quote entirely from memory) was written before I knew that he was violating his prom- 
ise, and shooting arrows at me in the dark. He must have thought me strangely con- 
stituted, if I would allow him to write such a slanderous letter to Mr. Spring, and I 
make no reply. If he had let me alone, as he promised to do. then there would have 
been no occasion for me to give my views of him to Mr. S., or to any one else. And 1 
never should. I did it solely in self defence ■ and I said nothing but what I can prove 
to be irue. And I believe that the public generally will need no other proof but the 
reading of this pamphlet. 

3 



26 ISI^UITY UNFOLDED. 

formed to different persons, and to some members of the Council. He 
attempted to read it, or something like it, to Dr. Perry ; but from the 
severe, through merited lecture which he then received, it is presumed 
that this will be his last attempt on the doctor. 

Soon after the above-named interview, in whrh " the covenant was 
signed, sealed and delivered," I preached for the first time in Exeter. — 
On the Monday following I was uncommonly feeble and exhausted. In 
the evening while leading in the devotions of the kind family where I 
lodged, I fell suddenly upon the floor, and was taken up, as they suppos- 
ed, a corpse. After some four or six minutes, there were signs of return- 
ing life ; and on Wednesday L returned to Boston. While in the cars I 
reflected on the effects which my correspondence with the deacons would 
have had on my family and friends, if I had died at Exeter, and that cor- 
respondence had fallen into their hands. They were profoundly igno- 
rant of the whole matter ; and the reading of those papers would, as I 
apprehended, have laid the foundation for strife and alienation between 
the deacons and my friends, which might have resulted most disastrously 
to families and the church. I said to myself, *' As the covenant is signed, 
sealed and delivered, and the matter all ended, why should I preserve that 
correspondence ? It shall be destroyed." Accordingly I committed the 
packet to the flames. The first letter of Mr. Spring to me happened to 
be in that packet. But most providentially, his second letter was lying 
in another place, and escaped destruction. As the deacons had preserv 
ed our correspondence, it was all laid before the Referees. 

About'this time, if I remember correctly, Mr. Pat ton was ordaned as 
my successor in South Boston. A short time before the ordination, 1 
ascertained that the deacons and Mr. Howe, being on the committee to 
invite the Council, had determined to exclude my name from the letters 
missive. This act seemed to exceed in infamy all that had preceded it. 
This, I thought, was "signing and sealing the covenant" with a vengeance. 
Some of my fiiends interfered, and insisted that I should be invited. Fi- 
nally the deacons said explicitly to a friend, that I should not be invited, 
because they had lost all confidence in me ; but they did not at that time 
tell hiin the reason of their want of confidence. That friend wished me 
to see them at deacon Drake's, where they were then assembled. I called 
as he requested, and told them it was a most unrighteous thing to treat 
me in this manner; that it would be injurious to the church, to my friends, 
and even to themselves as well as to me ; that it would excite inquiry by 
the Council, and might lead to an investigation, and possibly defeat, for 
the present, the ordination itself. 1 told them that I had no desire to 
attend that service, and that if I did attend, I would on no account take 
any part in the performances. But to exclude my name, I assured them, 
would be a public declaration on their part, that I ought not to be recog- 
nized as a minister of the gospel ; and that, if I had dreamed ^of their 
treating me in such a manner, especially after their late "covenant, sign- 
ed, sealed and delivered," I would have prevented their giving Mr. Pat- 
t;>n a call some weeks before, by announcing myself a candidate for re- 
settlement over that church. But they were fixed and unyielding. No 
• gratitude for my past services in that place, — no sense of justice, — no re- 



INIQUITY UNFOLD E^D . 27 

;ard to their solemn promise, — no sympathy for a clergyman in feeble 
health, with a dependent family, whose character is to him much what 
capital is to the merchant in trade ; no considerations of this kind could 
reach their hearts, or make them move from their purpose of excluding 
me from that Council, and thus exciting against me suspicion and distrust. 
Deacon Vinton, however, said that if any questions should be asked as to 
the cause of my name being omitted in the letters missive, he should re- 
ply that lie considered me a member of the Phillips Church, and that he 
thought it improper for a member of the church to sit in Council to ordain 
a man over the same church of which he was a member. I told him that 
I was not a member, — that my membership ceased when my pastorship 
ceased, — and that so far as I was then a member of any particular church 
I stood connected with the church which I originally joined, and from 
which I had never been dismissed. But all this reasoning weighed noth- 
ing with those men. They said they had lost all confidence in me, and 
that was enough, [could hardly avoid exclaiming, " What ! such men 
talk of a want of confidence ! men who had suffered me to be dismissed 
from that church with clean papers as a good minister of Christ without 
a single whisper of objection ! men who had violated their solemn cove- 
nant and promise ! such men talk of a want of confidence ! I could not 
but think of the character described by Solomon, " She eateth, and wip- 
eth her mouth, and saith, I have done no wickedness !" I thought, too, 
of Paul's declaration, "In perils, among false brethren." 

The council assembled. Much surprise was manifested at my absence; 
but as deacon Vinton took it upon himself to excuse the matter, on the 
ground that I was a member of the church, the services went forward, 
though not without much difficulty and delay; not, however, occasioned 
by my absence ; and thankful I was that I was not there, lest it should 
have been attributed, by my enemies, to me. 

On the first of March following, I removed, with my family, to Exeter. 
I had previously engaged to labor there for six months, as an experiment 
on my health. Things went on prosperously during; those months, though 
some twenty members of the church soon removed by letter to the second 
church, on account of some previous difficulties with each other and their 
former pastor. But the vacancy thus occasioned was soon supplied by 
the accession to the church of more than forty members, by letter and 
profession, and by an increase of the number of worshippers on the Sab- 
bath of about one third. When the six months had expired, my health 
was so far confirmed, that I consented to receive a call, and was installed 
on the 20th day of September, 1843 Being in Boston about the middle 
of that month, to request some of my brethren in the ministry to take part 
in the services of installation, I received a note while at Mr. Dunbar's 
signed by the deacons and Mr. Howe, telling me that if I did not cease 
visiting Mr. D.'s house, (doubtless meaning South Boston) they had it 
in prayerful consideration whether it would not be their duty to state cer- 
tain facts, in their possession, to the world. Deacon Drake sent his son 
with the note, who gave it to Mrs. Dunbar at the door, and she handed it 
to me, which I read without one word of comment, or a single intimation 
of its contents. To this note, soon after my installation, I replied in a 



28 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

confidential letter to Mr. Howe, stating to him that the deacons had treat- 
ed me in such an unkind and ungentlemanly manner, that I should hold 
no further correspondence with them, either written or verbal, unless com- 
pelled to do so by the most imperious necessity. 1 gave him distinctly 
to understand that 1 should not submit to their dictation ; that I never 
visited any families in South Boston but such as were respectable a« their 
own; that I always endeavored, wherever I went, to behave like a gen- 
tleman a and christian ; and that so long as no complaint was made by 
those whom I visited, I thought it quite out of place in those to complain 
whom I have never injured, to whom I wished no harm, and upon whose 
hospitalities I should never obtrude myself. 

Soon after this, a friend of mine, who had known me intimately for 
fifteen years, and a member of Phillips Church, came to Exeter, and 
informed me that deacon Vinton was saying things to my injury, giving 
strong intimations of something improper beiween myself and Mrs. D., 
and, at the same time, stating how much he had prayed for me. He 
mentioned that the deacon, not long since, was in the Provision Store of 
Mr. Henry Crafts ; that Mr. C. asked him what he had against Mr. 
Fairchild ; and that the deacon replied, "Ask me no questions, and I 
will tell you no lies ;" but added, " I think that the clergy as a bod} are 
the most licentious class of men in the community." This friend remark- 
ed that the deacon had said the same to him in substance when convers- 
ing with him about me. Not thinking that the time had yet come for me 
to tell the story of my wrongs, (having acted uniformly on the defensive,) 
I assured this friend that he need not be troubled ; that 1 had done noth- 
ing to give any just occasion for such insinuations ; that when the proper 
period arrived, 1 should be ready to meet my accusers face to face, and 
then he should be informed of the whole matter. With this assurance he 
was satisfied, and returned. 

Within a few weeks Mr. Dunbar began to hear what was reported ; and 
having the most perfect confidence in me and his wife ; having never seen 
or suspected the least impropriety between us. be and Mr?. D. con- 
cluded that it was their duty to leave a Church where they were ihus 
slandered, and to make application for a letter of dismission and recom- 
mendation to some other church. When Mr. D. was about making (his 
application, he expressed a wish that if the deacons or any body else, had 
anything against the moral character of himself or wife, it might be made 
known to them. Accordingly it was arranged that an interview should 
take place between the deacons and Mr. D. at his house ; but as Mrs. 
D. was then sick, it was agreed that the proposed interview should not 
take place till after her recovery. It did not therefore take place till the 
latter part of Febiuary or the first of March. The evening having been 
appointed, the deacon and Mr. Howe met at Mr. D.'s. They found 
themselves in quite an awkward predicament. How to introduce the 
subject they knew not. They remembered, (pity they had not remem- 
bered it before,) that they were under obligations of silence to me; and 
to talk about the matter in my absence,was not a little perplexing. They 
mentioned the difficulty of their position to Mr. D. who immediately pro- 
posed an adjournment, that I might be notified to be present. To this 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 29 

they assented. But fearing lest some communication might pass between 
Mrs. D. and myself before the proposed interview could take place, (for 
I had assured the deacons from the beginning that Mrs. D. was as igno- 
rant of the whole affair as a new born infant,) they wished to say something 
to her before my arrival. Accordingly one of them proposed to see Mrs. 
D. alone, as they wished to ask her a few questions. To this Mrs. D. 
very properly objected, and said, "Gentlemen, if you have any thing to 
say to me, say it in the presence of my husband ; for if you converse 
with me in private, I shall tell him all you say to me as soon as you are 
gone." Deacon Vinton then s iid to Mrs. D., i; Did not Mr. Fairchild 
visit you by a signal." She replied, "Never; 1 know not what you 
mean." The deacon replied with mu:h emphasis and an intimidating 
shake of his finger, "Ah ! madam, you do know." After some remarks 
by Mr. Howe, Mrs. D.said, "I am perfectly willing:, Mr. Howe, that you 
should inquire into my character of any one with whom I have associated; 
for 1 think it will stand quite as fair as your own, Sir, either before or since 
my marriage." To which Mr. H. replied, "O Mrs. Dunbar, no one 
ever doubted but that your character stood fair. .We would trust you 
with any other man but Mr. Fairchild. He is so very artful, perhaps you 
were betrayed before you were aware." (If I am wrong in any part of 
this statement I hope the Referees will correct me.) Mrs. D. replied, 
"I know nothing of his ait ; for it has never been practised on me. He 
has always treated me with the greatest kindness and respect as my friend 
and pastor." This was said to her by Mr. Cranston Howe, who had lived 
in illicit connexion with the woman, now his wife, for how long a time 
before their marriage, is best known to themselves. Certain it is that 
some months before the proper time a child made its appearance, to the 
great astonishment and mortification of the family where they then board- 
ed. Deacon Drake also remarked, "If I were convinced you had done 
wrong and were sorry for it, I would promise never to think of it again, 
no, not another half hour." To which Mrs. D. replied, "Would you 
have me confess a tiling of which 1 am not guilty ?" and was going to 
add : "for the sake of your sympathy, deacon Drake ?" but being choked 
with emotion, she did not complete the sentence. Deacon Drake then 
replied, " O, if you have been betrayed, we could not expect you to 
acknowledge it." Thus it seems that what the deacon wanted was a 
confession, on the assurance that he would immediately forget and forgive 
the sin. If the crime he was charging upon her were true, she must 
have been as guilty as myself. And yet lie would most readily forgive 
it all in her ! Who does not see that the deacon's object was to have the 
fatal arrow strike, not her, but me, through her ? The husband, hearing 
all this, was perfectly astounded, and the wife in tears. Not one suspi- 
cious thought had passed through his mind ; and yet, hearing the grave 
deacons of a church talk in this manner, he fancied it possible that there 
might be some foundation for what they said. He is a timid man, and 
has no more of the organ of combattiveness than my c elf. When the above 
scene was described in the presence of the Referees, one of the gen- 
tlemen from Exeter who heard it, said to me, " It is well that I had not 

been the husband of that woman ; for if I had, I am afraid that mur- 

3# 



30 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

der would have been committed." And when these facts were stated to 
CyrusAlger, Esq. of S. Boston, who well knew the moral purity of Mrs. 
D.'s character, I have been credibly informed, that he offered Mr. D. lm 
purse to prosecute those men to the full extent of the law. But wishing 
for no litigation with any one, he has hitherto declined the offer. How 
much longer he will decline it, is a matter for him to decide. When it 
was stated to ihe Referees that Mrs. D. had been an inmate of my family 
for fifteen months before her marriage, ihe following question was proposed 
to Mr. D. : "Was not your wife virtuous when you married her?" To 
which he promptly replied, ' She was; and I have every reason to believe 
that she has been so ever since." 

And here my readers will excuse me for stating in reference to Mrs. 
Dunbar, that there is not a purer minded female in the chinch in South 
Boston, or in any other church. There was not a stain upon her 
character, either before or since her marriage. And in confirmation of 
this statement, I would refer to those families who are best acquainted 
with her, such as the Algers, the Howards- the Brookses, and the JNick- 
ersons; and indeed, to any families these, always excepting Mr. Howe's, 
the deacons', and the Dunhams.' I do not include, in this remark, the 
elder son of Mr. Dunham. He, 1 am told, has never joined thisrrusade 
against innocence and virtue. 

But the account of this affair -is not yet ended. In a day or two after 
this strange scene at Mr. D.'s, he had an inteiview with deacon Drake 
in the Freeman's Bank. The deacon then, I am told, shed tears, pitied 
Mr. D., called him brother very affectionately, and told him how much 
he respected him, As Mr. D. had not then a clear rnsijglrt into the mat- 
ter, he asked the deacon's advice. And the deacon told him to try to 
make his wife confess, and asked him whether he could not live with her 
again, if she should confess : adding, that he thought he could live with 
his wife, if she had been betrayed, and would confess it.* AH this came 
out before the Referees. 

After this interview, Mr. D. was convinced that it was high time for 
him to think and act for himself. Reflecting on all the past intimacies 
between the families for seven yeais, and not being able to bring to his 
recollection one suspicious circumstance, and having reason to believe, 
from Mrs. Fairchild's attachment to his wife, that she had no suspicions, he 
concluded at once, as he afterwards told me, that it was a vile plot to 
ruin me. He thus became satisfied, before he heard one word fiom my 
lips, that my enemies were determined to destroy my character and de- 
pose me from the ministry ; aid that they were willing, in order to ac- 
complish this object, to sacrifice the peace and reputation of his own fam- 
ily. He, however, wrote me a letter, requesting me to meet the deacons 
at his house. 1 replied to him that such a meeting would not probably 
result in any good ; that J chose not to have any thing more to do with 
them ; and that if he would request them to read to him the letters I had 
written them, he would be able to see the merits of the case as distinctly 

* I do hope that Mrs. Drake will have too much respect for herseif, as well as for the 
morals of the community, to avail herself of the license thus given by her husband. 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 31 

as though I were present. Afterwards I agreed to meet them in the pre- 
sence ol deacon Simonds ; but before the lime of meeting arrived, 1 re- 
ceived a note from Mr. D. stating that such a meeting would be wholly 
fruitless ; for he was satisfied that no explanations would change their 
views or purposes. He had seen deacon Vinton, and told him that he 
was perfectly convinced of his wife's innocence, and wanted a letter of 
dismission from the Church. The deacon began to speak about a con- 
fession ; but Mr. D. interrupted him by saying that she had nothing to 
confess. " Well then," says the deacon, " I suppose I must do as I did 
when Mr. Fairchild went away, — be silent." Mr. D. expressed a wish 
to see me, and I went and spent the night at his house. Then, for the 
first lime, I told him and his wife I lie whole story. The only ground on 
which they blamed me was that J had so long kept this matter concealed 
from them. I stated to them my reasons for so doing; which were that 
I knew Mrs, D. was innocent ; that it would inflict a deep wound on 
their feelings, break up the peace of neighborhoods, mar the harmony of 
the Church, and especially expose me to the charge of slandering my- 
self; for deacon Drake had told me at first, that they should say 
nothing about it, and therefore if the matter became public at all, it would 
become so through me, and thus, if their suspicions were groundless, i 
should be my own slanderer. On this account it was that I had not di- 
vulged the affair even to my wife. With these explanations they were 
satisfied. * 

I returned to Exeter, not knowing what next would follow, but hoped 
for the best. Soon after this, two anonymous letters were received 
through the Post Office, unpaid, the one addressed to the Rev. Henry 
Jewell, the minister of the Universalist Society in this town, and the 
other to James Burley, Esq , a member of the same Society, and Cash- 
ier of the Granite Bank. Both of these letters are dated March 15th, 
J844, and both bear the Boston stamp, March 18th. The following is a 
literal copy of the letter addressed to Mr. Burley. 

Boston, March 15th, 1844, 

Dear Sir:— 

As there are reports in circulation in this city, prejudicial to the moral 
character of the E.e^. J. H. Fairchild, I have thought it toy duty to write to you, to put 
you and the citizens of Exeter on your guard, lest any evil should result, to your peo- 
ple from' having the Rev. Gentleman amongst you. It is confidently reported here, 
and believed by many, that the Rev. Joy H. Fairchild left his Society in this city, on 
account of being suspected of criminal intercourse with the wife of one of his parish- 
ioners. 

The husband did not hear of the matter till within a few weeks. He then took 
steps to have the matter exposed. But Mr. Fairchild came to Boston last week, and 
by fair promises, induced him, (the husband,) to stop further proceedings in the mas- 
ter. The name of the husband is Nahum Dunbar, a very worthy man and good citi- 
zen. He lives on the corner of B Street and Broadway. A line addressed to the dea- 
cons of the Phillips Church, where Mr. Fairclrld formerly preached, will bring an ans- 
wer that will satisfy the people in Exeter, that they are entertaining a wolf in sheep's 
clothing. 

You will please take such steps as will bring out the truth, and protect the innocent 
citizens of Exeter from the fangs of the destroyer of innocence and the happineos of 
families. 

Respectfully Yours, &c, 

A FRIEND TO JUSTICE. 



32 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

As the letter to Mr. Jewell is nearly verbatim, and in the same hand, 
it is unnecessary to publish it. 

Soon after this Mr. Jewell received another letter, unpaid, dated and 
stamped March 29th, 1844. As it is very short I will here copy it. It 
is written in a different hand from the former. 

„ Boston, March 29, 1844. 
Dear Sir : — 

Will you have the goodness to obtain the names of the deacons of the 
church over which J. H. Fairchild it, now, and send the same to the Rev. T. D. Cook, 
of South Boston, as soon as convenient. EAST HARTFORD. 

The Rev. Mr. Jewell did write to Mr. Cook, the Universalist minister 
of South Boston, whose letter in reply was put into my hands ; but unfor- 
tunately it has been mislaid, otherwise I should publish it. It was a very 
proper reply to Mr. Jewell, kind in its spirit, and honest in its expres- 
sions ; and for it I called in person to thank him. It gave a very correct 
account of the attempts, on the part of my enemies, to blast my charac- 
ter. I will venture to quote from memory one expression. Speaking of 
the individuals who were thus attempting my ruin, he says, -'Their breath 
is the very concentrated essence of slander." 

Why were these anonymous letters written to the above-named gen- 
tlemen? Evidently because they were Universalist?, and the writer thought 
that they, having embraced a faith different from mine, would gladly cir- 
culate an ill report of an Orthodox clergyman, and eagerly pick at so 
sweet a bone. But the writer missed his aim. They, like honest men, 
pocketed the letters, and said nothing. They did as they would be done 
by. They behaved in the matter like gentlemen ; and they are entitled 
to my warmest thanks, for the courteous manner in which they treated me. 

My enemies thus failing in their object of bringing over these Univer- 
salist gentlemen to aid them in their work of destruction, soon devised 
another expedient. Accordingly on the 15th day of April, an anony t 
mous Circular came into the Post Office in this town, in a packet mailed 
at Portsmouth, signed " Epaphroditus," dated at Exeter, but w T ritten in 
Boston, as is evident from one expression it contains. These printed 
Circulars were directed to thirty or forty of the most respectable gentle- 
men among us, and were soon circulated in Boston and elsewhere. As 
one of them was directered to the Post Master, he discovered the contents 
before any of ihem had been distributed. He kindly sought an interview 
with me, and said that as they were anonymous and libellious, he doubted 
whether the law compelled him to aid in their circulation, and that it might 
be well to destroy them ; but on a little reflection 1 told him to let them 
go out ; for I knew the enemies with whom I had to contend, and that if 
they failed to get them to the people through the post office, they would 
send some one here at midnight to put them under our doors. They w ? ere 
bent on my ruin, and nothing would satisfy them till that was accomplished. 
Accordingly the Circulars were issued, and here is a copy. 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 33 

CIRCULAR. 

A WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING. 

A sincere friend to the cause of virtue and true religion earnestly solicits the atten- 
tion of ad who are interested in the common cause of i he Redeemer and of his people, 
to the painful exposure which his duty to Go I and man impels him to make. He pro- 
files to be actuated by no sectarian prejudice or selfish spieen toward any living indi- 
vidual ; his side aim is to prevent the evil influence of crime from attaching itself to 
the cause of Christ. When any unworthy man, by a long course of duplicity and cun- 
ning, has been able to conceal his real character from the eyes of his fellows, even 
while the daily record of his deeds showed him to be a licentious pander to the darkest 
designs of Satan, — anil that he was daily praciising ihe mcst glaring outrages against 
the laws of God and of his country, it becomes the bounden duty of all who have at 
heart the cause which is suffering from such perfidy, to rend, away the veil which hides 
his real character, and expose the DEMON to a confiding public. Such is ihe nature 
of the task I have undertaken, and in justification of myself I subrn.it the following 
facts : 

We have in ou r midst a preacher of die gospel, named J. H. Fairchild ; and what- 
ever he may have been able to effect in the way of winning gok.en opinions from tho-e 
who know him not, it will be seen that he is indeed a ■' wolf in sheep's clothing,'' a ser- 
pent in the Eden of the church. Some ten or fifteen years since. Mr. F. wa's settled 
over a church in East Hartford, Connecticut, and was caught in a criminal irj-Jnilacy 
with a female of his parish. How that affair was settled is still fr-es'h in the mind,-, of 
many. The clerical criminal came to South Boston, and was settled over the Phillips 
Church in that place. For several years he seemed a pattern of good behavior even to 
pastors. But the evil habit was too strongly sealed to be controlled, except by constant 
reliance upon him who is able and willing to save. Within a few years he Sjas been a 
constant object of suspicion, both by members of his church and parish. \ He was sus- 
hpe. ed, in more than one instance of invading the marriage covenant between some of 
bctemembers of his own church ' How this suspicion was reduced to a c rain y, may 
ie >eea by the following stratagem a l«*pteJ by those who had observed the incidents 
ghnil led to the exposure. A lady of ihe parish was in the habit, at certain intervals, 
fhciior.g io a room which overlooked, the parson's study, and of opening a particular 
bowd of the window, which was generally kept closed. The opening of the bind was 
a signal to the pastor; who was observed to leave his study as often ? as the signal w is 
observed, toreach and enter the house, and was ultimately surprised by those who •sus- 
pected him, even in the act of an adulterous connexion' with another member of his 
own church. A partial exposure to the deacons of that church ensued ; and it is inf r- 
red by the friends of the officers, that a jus] apprehension Lor the welfare of the church, 
and the pledges of an offending .pastor, induced them to hush the matter n\i, on dona- 
tion that he should leave the parish. He "did so, and is now settled, in Exeter, ove: a 
church which needs all the efficacy of real piety to heal its recent wounds, and i i n 
tow.i winch has before experience 1 ihe nahapov reality of lisiening to preachers t',..d 
laymen who have been slaves to the -dust ot ihe flesh." 

In so serious a matter as this, mere assertions should never be lightly taken, although 
to give names of the guilty and innocent sufferers by the criminality of Mr. FaiMnld, 
is a painful task to those who are bound to pity the criminal while condemning and 

exposing the crime. Mr. D -r, a laborer in the South Boston Foundry, is the 

husband of the guilty woman, and within a few weeks he has become acquainted with 
the affair, and sent for the R-v. criminal to come and attend to it. He came, but his 
guilt was so manifest that an immediate rupture was ihe consequence, and after hung 
forbidden the house by Mr. D.. he fled from the ciiy in trepidation and horror. Mis. 

D r resided in Mr. FaiichikTs family before her marriage, was married from his 

house, has visited Exetersince his residence herei and has received his visits whenever 
he has visited the city. Suspicion and rumor have also connected wiih him in guilt 
Several other married ladies of ihe city, and his character is now so foully stained, that 
his farther connexion with the church of Christ must reflect disgrace upon that cause 
which every true christian should strive to extend and glorify. 

For confirmation of these facts, I refer to the present deacons of Phillips Church, 
at South Boston, who are acquainted with them, and who ought not to shrink from an 
open confession if interrogated. And w'nh these well substantiated facts before them, 
I submit it to the friends of Religion, if siv h a man is suitable to preside over the spir- 
itual welfare of any church in the kingdom of Christ? EPAPHRODITUS, 
Exeter, Aoril 10, 18 U. ■ 



34 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

On the evening of the same day in which the Circular was issued, the 
brethren of the church met in the vestry to consider what action, if any, 
should be taken in reference to that paper. It seemed to be the general 
opinion that no action was necessary, as Mr. Epaphroditus was an un- 
known personage, shooting his arrows of death in the dark, without any 
responsibility or fear of detection. It was very wisely determined by the 
brethren, that if the deacons of South Boston, who were referred to in 
the Circular, had any thing against my moral character, they ought, as 
honest men, to have made the fact known before my settlement here, and 
not have suffered me to leave South Boston with such high testimonials 
of character, and thus impose upon this church and society, especially 
when they knew that 1 had been preaching here for six months previous 
to my installation and knowing, moreover the very day appointed for 
the ceremony to take place, and the very clergymen in their immmediate 
vicinity who were to take part in consummating the proposed union be- 
tween me and this people. But as reference was made to the deacons 
of South Boston, it was thought best that two of their number, though 
without a forma! appointment by the church, should call on the deacons 
and inquire whether they were prepared to assume the responsibility of 
substantiating the grave charges in that Circular. They went immedi- 
ately to South Boitqn, and had an interview with the deacons and Mr. 
Howe. But while they disclaimed all knowledge of the authorship of 
the Circular, and expressed their belief that certain portions of it were 
utterly false, yet they stated that they were in possession of certain 
facts which implicated my moral character, but refused to disclose any 
thing, except in my presence, though they had already made statements to 
others, as the very appearance of the Circular itself plainly demonstrated. 
Tin's is the amount of all the information which the gentlempn from Exe- 
ter could obtain from them. They then made inquiries of several indi- 
viduals, my former parishioners, as to the feelings of the deacons towards 
me, and as to my general character and standing in that community ; and 
having satisfied themselves on those points, they returned and reported 
accordingly. A; the church did not see fit to take any further action in 
the case, 1 thought it best to let the matter rest there. 

About this time I wiote to a friend of the deacons \n South Boston, 
requesting him to use his influence with them to have the matter end 
where it was, and stating that an investigation could not result in any good 
to them, or to that church, or to me ; for though 1 was conscious of my 
innocence, yet I dreaded the anxiety, the fatigue, and the expense which 
must attend such an investigation. I requested him to obtain a certificate 
from the deacons, not as an indorsement of my character, but a simple 
statement of what they had often said to me, that they had no charges to 
prefer against me, and that they knew of no reason why I might not la- 
bor and be useful here, as I had been there. This, I believe, is the sub- 
stance of what I wrote ; but having no copy of the letter I quote only from 
memory. But no such certificate was given. I wanted simply to satisfy 
the brethren here, to avoid the trouble and perplexity of investigating the 
matter in Boston. 

I soon perceived that there was quite an anxiety on the part of some 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 35 

of the people here, to ascertain what those mysterious facts were, in pos- 
session of the deacons. And receiving a letter from Mr. Dunbar about 
this time, in which he expressed his opinion and desire that an investiga- 
tion, in some form or other, should take place, — that it was due to himself 
and his wife, as well as to me, and the only way by which the mouths of 
the deacons could be effectually closed. 

Accordingly I requested, through the Rev. Mr. Adams, of Boston, that 
an investigation might take place. At his suggestion, and with the con- 
sent of the deacons, the Board of Referees, already mentioned, was con- 
stituted, and the matter referred to them for their final action and decision. 

The Board met on the 8th day of May at S. Boston. As I was quite 
feeble at the time, I requested the Rev. Mr. Albio of Cambridge to aid 
me in my defence. The deacons thought that if I had assistance, they 
must too ; and so they introduced for this purpose, the Rev. A. A. Phelps 
of East Boston. But as they utterly refused to appear before that body 
in the character of accusers, but simply as witnesses, the Referees very 
properly concluded that Mr. Phelps had no right to be there ; that it was 
an unheard of thing for witnesses to request the aid of Counsel to help 
them give in their testimony. They were requested to take the position 
of accusers, if they chose; but they declined. Only think of it; the 
deacons declining to be my accusers! Why, they had, in effect been 
my accusers for months, and perhaps years, behind my back ; but now 
they occupy the station of simple witnesses. And they did appear sim- 
ple enough before they got through. But more of this hereafter. 

The Circular was read in the presence of the Referees, and the dea- 
cons were inquired of as to their knowledge of its paternity. They af- 
firmed they knew not the writer, nor had they said any thing to authorize 
the writer to refer to them.* Then commenced the examination of wit- 
nesses. Mrs. Cranston Howe was the first witness upon the stand. She 
had some preliminaries to state in justification of herself in watching her 
neighbors. She said that in the summer of 1837, there was a young 
female boarding in her family to whom I paid more attention than she 
thought proper ; and thus having her suspicions excited against me, she 
could not very well avoid keeeping an eye upon me when I went to Mr. 
Dunbar's. The facts, as they came out before the Referees, were these. 
In the summer of 1837, the female who taught the Primary School in the 



*Perhaps it ought to be noted here, that about a week before the Circular made its 
appearance, Mr James Folsom, a member of the Church of which I was then pastor, 
called on me, and stated that he had recently been to Boston and had an interview with 
Josiah Dunham. Mr. F. mentioned to me privately, and in a christian manner, the 
remarks made to him by Mr. Dunham, respecting my character and conduct. They 
were in substance the statements made in the Circular. Mr. D. referred Mr. F. to the 
deacons of Phillips Church to confirm the truth of his statements. And yet the deacons, 
if they are to be credited, had said nothing ! They had maintained a profound silence ! 
Where then did these two men, (Mr. Dunham and Epaphroditus,) get their information? 
I say two men, because Mr- Dunham cannot be Epaprhoditus ; for he can neither read 
nor write except his own name, — a name which may be found on many a worthless 
bill of the Franklin BanK. 

Since writing the above I have been informed that Thomas H. Dunham, a son of 
Josiah D. stated to Mr. John S. Parshley, a respectable citizen of S. Boston, the sub- 
stance of that Circular, some two or three weeks before it was given to the public. 



38 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

Vestry of my meeting house for several years, and who formerly boarded 
in my family for eight or ten months, was so much enfeebled by her labors 
in the school, that she retired into the country to visit her relatives and 
regain her health. She sent a younger sister to take her place in the school 
during her absence. Though I had been made acquainted with the elder 
sisters and the brothers, for they had frequently been at my house when 
in Boston, yet this sister I had never before seen, nor had she previously 
visited the city. As she was a stranger, and appeared, at times, depressed 
and lonely, and as I had been the committee of that school some eight or 
nine years, (though I had then resigned,) I paid this young lady a good 
deal of attention, in order to cheer up her spirits, make her contented, 
and encourage her in her work ; but no more attention than I should have 
been pleased to have a clergyman pay to a daughter of my own, in simi- 
lar circumstances. She boarded with Mrs. Howe. On one occasion as 
I was passing out of my front door, just as this teacher was going into 
her school, 1 said to her, half in earnest and half in jest, " A gentleman 
has just called and invited me to marry him ; and if I get a good lee, per- 
haps I will give it to you. 1 ' I thought no more of it till a few days after, 
she asked me if I would be willing to show her the way to Louisburgh 
Square. As I went to the Post Ofhce daily about 1 1 o'clock, I told her 
that I would do it with pleasure. As it was in the month of June or July, 
the schools were all dismissed at that hour. Immediately after dismissing 
her school, she returned to Mrs. Howe's to prepare herself to walk with 
Hie to Boston. I waited for her till nearly half past 11 o'clock, and as 
she had not arrived, I concluded to go without her. I went on, and just 
as I was passing the corner of Broadway towards the new bridge, I saw 
her coming. 1 slacked my pace, and she soon overtook me. As we 
were entering Washington street, if I remember correctly, I gave her the 
marriage fee,(c hree dollars,) and told her to go into some store with me 
and buy a dress. She did so. I charged her not to tell any one of it, 
particularly her sister, because I had never made her such a present, 
though she once boarded with us, and it might excite unpleasant feelings, 
especially as she was somewhat dissatisfied because we had refused to 
receive her a second time as a boarder. Mrs. Howe, it seems, when the 
young lady left the house to go to Boston, suspecting that she was going 
in company with me, went up to her chamber window, and put out her 
head to ascertain the fact. And when she saw me walking slowly in the 
same direction, and the young lady following after, it was to her mind, 
proof positive that there was something wrong going on. And when the 
girl returned wkh a dress, and said it was a present, but refused to tell the 
giver, then there was a demonstration of iniquity. At last the girl, being 
teased aud threatened, for peace sake, disclosed my name as the donor; 
and did then and has since given the most solemn assurances, both verbal 
and written, that I had ever treated her like a gentleman and a Christian, 
and had never said or done a single thing which made the thought pass 
her mind that 1 wished to injure her. Tnis came out before the Refer- 
ees. And this was the reason assigned by Mrs. H. for watching Mrs. D". 
and myself. 

On the 27th day of August 1841, as has been already stated, deacon 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 37 

Vinton made his sudden and outrageous attack upon me. It was done 
on this wise. Between 1 and 2 o'clock of that day, deacon V., being 
somewhat defective in his organ of vision, could not see distinctly from 
his own house some twenty rods distant, and therefore goes slyly into Mr. 
Howe's, and places himself in close contact with Mrs. H. at the front 
window, with the green blind open a short distance, and there they sit or 
stand peeping through to make discoveries.* In the mean time, deacon 
Drake's house being further off still, the deacon goes up into the attic, 
opens the scuttle window, peers out his head and watches narrowly. And 
the girl, as described above, opened the blind a short distance for the ad- 
mission of light to dress herself. And as she forgot to close it, and went 
off to School, then the eyes of the watchers were open wide. By and 
by, as I was passing the house to pay Mr. Conley his bill, I stopped to 
leave the Herald. When I came out, the deacon, (so he stated to the 
Referees,) in order to be certain and no mistake, that I was the very man 
who went in, and came out, left Mrs. Howe, and started on in hot pur- 
suit What then transpired has been already described. At this stage 
of the investigation, I cannot tell what the Referees thought ; but I well 
remember how they looked. 

And now. reader, just reflect on that scene! Two grave deacons 
of a Church, the one peeping through the blind, and the other 
near the top of his house, at the scuttle window, peering out his 
head like a turtle from its shell, watching their pastor, who was wholly 
unconscious of what was going on, and as innocent and harmless in his 
movements as a child. And then too, only thinly of the previous charac- 
ter of the principal watcher ! Set a rogue to catch a rogue. "They evil 
think who evil r/o."f Consider further that just two weeks from that 
very i day, Mrs. Dunbar became a happy mother ! I say happy, because 
she knew nothing of the attempt of her jealous neighbors to ruin her. 
Shame, shame on Mrs. H. ! She ought to have had more respect for the 
character of her sex than to admit the possibility that I should call at 
such a time and under such circumstances, for so vile a purpose. None 
of the females in that neighborhood, more pure minded than herself, ever 
thought of such a thing. And they never watched. They all view the 
matter as it ought to be — with contempt and indignation.^ 



*Mrs. H. has since had twins, which I hope will furnish her, in future, with some 
more useful and honorable employment than watching her neighbors. 

It is worthy of notice here, that during two of the three years in which Mrs. Howe 
was employing herself in watching Mrs. Dunbar, she frequently called on Mrs. D., and 
often expressed a desire for greater intimacy ! 

X To let the public see more clearly what an espionage has been exercised over me 
by my watchers, I will here state an incident which happened in May 1843. Mrs. Fair- 
child was taken unexpectedly ill, and required the immediate attention of a nurse. 
Not being able to procure a suitable one in Exeter even for a few days, I took the 9 
o'clock train for Boston, not thinking of going that day, ten minutes before I left my 
house. The nurse I wished to procure lived in the vicinity ot Mr. Dunbar's. As his 
house was usually my stopping place when in S. Boston, I went directly there, but 
found the house closed. On ringing the bell, Mrs. P., residing at the next door, hear- 
ing the bell, came out and informed me that Mr. and Mrs. D. had gone to Bridgewater, 
4 



38 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

When this matter was disposed of, the East Hartford affairs were intro- 
duced. We went into them, and heard all that the deacons had to say on 
that topic. But when I produced my testimonials which I brought with 
me from Connecticut, all of which the deacons had either heard or read 
long bofore, and which are now published for the information of the pub- 
lic, the Referees could find nothing from that quarter to implicate my 
moral character, or to justify the deacons in their attacks upon me. That 
matter therefore was soon ended. 

Near the close of the session deacon Drake handed to the chairman 
(deacon Noyes) a paper signed by several individuals, (I know them not, 
and choose not to know them, for their names were not read.) stating 
that they had, sometime or other, heard me say that, if it had not been 
for my friends in Boston, I should have starved. But I assured the Ref- 
erees that if I had used such an expression, it was a mere hyperbole, 
conveying more than was literally intended, and that my meaning was 
simply that I had seen the time when I should have felt great embarrass- 
ment in meeting my expenses, had it not been for the aid of my friends 
in the city. How any one could have supposed that I meant a literal 
starvation, is more than I can conjecture ; for there were neighbors around 
me of other denominations, Baptists, Methodists, Unitarians and Univer- 
salists, who would most cheerfully have contributed of their substance to 
prevent such a catastrophe. But the deacon's object was to prove that, 
as J had paid money about that time, which was given me for reducing 
a mortgage on my house, I must have told a falsehood about my embar- 
rassment. But more of jthis hereafter.* 

And then to cap the climax, (for one would think the judgment day 
had come, when my whole life was to be reviewed) they introduced a 
female who had lived in my family in 1833 and 4, who testified that I 



but would return in the course of the afternoon. I went directly to see the nurse, hop- 
ing that she would be able tc return with me that day in the last train. Butsncjcouid 
not go till morning. I returned to Mrs. P's with whom Mrs D. had left the key of the 
door. I unlocked tne door, went up into the chamber which I always occupied when 
there, and as I had not slept any the preceding night, I rested and slept some hours up- 
on the bed. About 6 o'clock. Mr. and Mrs. D. returned with their little daughter. 
When they arrived I was sitting alone in the parlor. Soon after this deacon Drake 
inquires of Mr. ?. why Mrs. Dunbar left the key of the door at his house when she went 
to Bridgewater? Mr. P. told him what he understooi was the reason ; but. the deacon 
seemed to doubt it. Within a few days Mrs. H , the famous watcher, called on Mr- 
P. and made some inquiries, which Mrs. P. did not comprehend, and therefore gave 
her no satisfaction. Mr. and Mrs, P. being profoundly ignorant of what was going on, 
could not imagine what was meant by such inquiries. But since the meeting of the 
Referees, they have no doubt as to the object of my watchers. 

* My salary was not regularly and punctually paid. The arrearages from May 1336 
to Nov. 1841, together with the interest, amounted to about four hundred dollars, which 
sum. was finally raised and paid by subscription. This circumstance, in addition to 
sickness in my family and other uncommon expenses, caused me, one year, to be in 
debt about three hundred dollars. 1 mentioned this fact to borne of my friends in Bos- 
ton, who cheerfully relieved me from my embarrassment. And I think it probable, 
though I cannot now distinctly recollect, that at this very time some individuals gare 
me money expressly for the purpose of reducing the mortgage on my house. Most of 
my papers containing the names and the sums given me for different objects, were de- 
stroyed, with a multitude of other papers, when I removed from Boston to Exeter. 



INIQCITT UNFOLDED. 39 

had kissed her ! The circumstances as they came out before the Referees 
were these : — That female had previously resided near the house which 
I then occupied, as housekeeper for her father, sustained an excellent 
character, and had recently become pious and joined the church. Some 
five or six months after she came into my family, she was in deep afflic- 
tion in consequence of the derangement of a beloved brother. She seemed 
greatly dejected, and at times unhappy. I endeavored to console her.— » 
One evening, as she was passing my study door, which usually stood part- 
ly open, I asked her to come in. I spoke conforting words to her, and 
expressed a hope that her brother's derangement would not be permanent. 
I truly pitied her, reminding her that we were in a world of trouble, but 
at the same time assuring her that we had this precious promise to com- 
fort us, " All things work together for good to them that love God ;" or 
words to this effect. And as she left the room I kissed her. And this 
act she never mentioned to any human being till ten years after, though 
T enjoined no secrecy upon her. The cause of her mentioning it will 
soon be stated. 

And what else did she testify? Why, that I never said one indelicate 
word to her, nor ever attempted an indelicate act ; that she continued to 
reside in my family from that time, for nearly one year, and that my whole 
deportment towards her was always respectful and proper. It was in ev- 
idence that she was with me at my bedside when I had the spasmodic 
cholera in 1834, and heard what was then supposed to be my last prayer 
and my dying counsel, and that she had often spoken to others of my 
happy frame of mind, and of my preparation, as she thought, to meet my 
final Judge. 

After she ceased to live with us, she still continued to reside in the 
place, often called at my house without ceremony, frequently consulted 
me alone in my study, with as much freedom and confidence as though 
I had been her father. Three female members of the church, of high 
standing as to character and credibility, testified that from the year 1834 
to 1840, they had often heard her speak of me in the highest terms of 
approbation. They stated certain expressions which they had heard her 
use in my praise, which it might appear vain in me to repeat. One of 
them testified that she heard her say, when speaking of the fall of a par- 
ticular clergyman, through licentiousness, "Well, they can never say such 
a thing about our minister." 

But how came this girl to testify ? If I have been correctly informed, 
the facts are these : — More than a year after I had resigned my office as 
pastor of the Phillips Church, she was visiting at deacon Drake's. The 
deacon wished to pump her ; and knowing that she once lived in my family, 
and had afterwards resided with Mrs. Dunbar for several years, he proba- 
bly thought he might obtain some information from her to aid him in his 
efforts to blast my character. He begins, as I am told, to state to her 
privately and in confidence, his suspicions of me and Mrs. D., with the 
grounds of them, such as the signals, &ic. (This is the very man who 
had promised forever to let me alone when I asked my dismission.) She 
told him that she had never seen any thing improper between us in all 
my intimacies theie, and she would not believe Mrs. D. to be guilty of 



40 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

any such thing. The deacon then asked her whether she had ever seen 
any thing out of the way in my conduct when she resided in my house, 
saying that he would give a good deal if he could only believe me inno- 
cent! Yes, innocent, I am told, is the very word he used ; but who can 
doubt, from his conduct, that he meant guilty.* Was this honesty or 
duplicity? Just think of it. Here is a man professedly anxious to have 
me proved innocent, when he knew that a conviction of my innocence on 
his mind, would have, compelled him, if he had one particle of Christianity, 
to humble himself in dust and ashes for his abuse of me, and to ask my 
forgiveness in penitence and tears. Is deacon Drake a man to do this ? 
Let those who know him best answer. Has he done it in reference to 
Mrs. Dunbar ? Not one of the Referees, I presume, has a doubt of her 
innocence. The clearing of me by that body was the clearing of her. — 
But the deacon has made no confession to her, or to her injured husband. 
And if she were now to apply to the church for a letter, I doubt not he 
would oppose and prevent it if he could. 

After the evidence was all in, and the deacons had nothing more to 
adduce against me, the Referees, having been alone an hour or two to 
ascertain each other's views, adjourned from the 10th to the 15th day of 
May, to meet at the house of Rev. Mr. Winslow, there to make up 
their final judgment in the case. They met accordingly, and having sat 
in secret session from the early part of the evening till after midnight, 
they came to the following unanimous Result : — 

"At the request of the Rev. J. H. Fairchild, of Exeter, N. H. ; the undersigned met 
at South Boston, on the 8th of May, 1844, to investigate charges made against his 
moral character, in an anonymous Circular, which had been recently distributed in 
Exeter and elsewhere. 

In this Circular, the Deacons of the Phillips Church in South Boston were referred 
to as having facts in their possession sustaining the aforesaid charges. 

Having been applied to by members of the Rev. Mr. Fairchild's Church in Exeter, 
to- communicate these facts, the Deacons of the Phillips Church then stated that they 
did not know the origin of the Circular, and that there were assertions in it which they 
believed to be utterly false. They disavowed any intention or wish to injure the rep- 
utation of Mr. Fairchild, and stated that though impressions had been made upon them 
by what had come to their knowledge derogatory to his character, they had been cau- 
tious and reserved, (and as some might think to a fault) in not making a public dis- 
closure of them, or of the circumstances from which they were derived. But now, as 
they had been referred to in the Circular, and had been appealed to by members of the 
church in Exeter, they were willing, if requested by Mr. Fairchild, to state all the facts* 
within their knowledge which had served to excite againsL him suspicions of conduct 
or intentions inconsistent with the christian character. 

The Deacons of Phillips Church, at the request of Mr. Fairchild, then made a state- 
ment, accompanied with the testimony of other individuals, members of said Church. 
A correspondence of great length growing out of the facts in question, was also read. 

After a protracted and laborious investigation of all the particulars touching this 
subject, the undersigned are constrained to say that the circumstances brought to view 
as tending to excite suspicion against the Rev. Mr. Fairchild, do not impair our confi- 



* Mrs. Drake has recently said to Mrs V., a member of the church in high standing, 
that her husband, (deacon D.) had lost all confidence in me as a mini>ter, from the first 
year of my settlement in South Boston. The reasons assigned for this loss of confi- 
dence were of so trivial a nature, that Mrs. V. did not burden her memory with them, 
deeming them no reasons at all. And yet he could sit under my ministry for thirteen 
years after this, and receive the sacramental bread and wine at my hands, ail the while 
believing me a bad man, and having no more confidence in me th^n he has now 1 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 41 

dence in his moral and christian character. In this remark, we include also alleged 
misconduct on his part, while pastor of a church in East Hartford, Conn.; and we are 
happy to state that after a severe and thorough scrutiny, nothing has appeared in any 
part of his life which prevents our according to him our full confidence as a minister 
of Christ. 

We are happy, therefore, to assure the church in Exeter, under the care of Rev. Mr. 
Fairchild, that, so far as our knowledge extends, they may continue to cherish an un- 
diminished confidence in him. 

We indulge the hope that our judgment in the case, having been virtually though 
not formally invited by those who have submitted the testimony, will have weight with 
them, and that the Rev Mr. Fairchild will be able to pursue the work of the ministry 
with his former faithfulness and success. H. WINSLOW, 

N. ADAMS. 
VV. ±. STEARNS. 
THO. M. VINSON, 
NATH'L DANA, 
DANIEL NO YES. 
A true copy, 

Attest, W. A. STEARNS, Scribe.' r 

Boston, May 15th, 1844. 

The reader will doubtless wish to inquire here, why the Referees, in 
their Result, say so little about the deacons ? A very natural inquiry it 
must be confessed, if what I have stated of their conduct be true. This 
is a point about which, perhaps, I ought not to speak, and I should not 
speak, if the omission would not seem to weaken the credibility of my 
stoiy. The question must of necessity press itself upon the mind of every 
reader, "How ®ame the Referees thus triumphantly to acquit Mr. Fair- 
child, without passing the severest censures upon the members and offi- 
cers of a church who had treated him in such an unkind and unchristian 
manner?" Surely this mailer needs explanation, and I will endeavor to 
explain it according to my best knowledge, trusting that the Referees will 
correct me if I do not explain it truly. 

After they had ascertained each other's views, I was informed by one 
of their number that my acquittal would be triumphant and unanimous, 
(which I never doubted from the beginning,) but the difficulty with them 
was in relation to the deacons. I told him that the deacons were not on 
trial, — that the Referees had been examining into my character and con- 
duct ; and if they were ready to pronounce me innocent, I preferred that 
the deacons should be spared. I suggested to him the probability that if 
the deacons were censured, the Phillips Church might feel compelled to 
deal with them, which I feared would scatter and divide a church which 
it had been my labor and anxiety for fourteen years to build up and keep 
united. I assured him that I had no hostile feelings towards them ; that 
I wished them to go on prosperously in that church ; that public opinion 
in South Boston would be punishment enough ; and that I hoped, when 
this matter was over, they would be quiet and let me alone. And I have 
since been informed, by one of their number, that it was on this ground 
they acted, and that, as the deacons were not on trial, it was not al- 
together in their line of duty to censure them. But, said one of them to 
me, "If they do not now let you alone to pursue your work at Exeter 
unmolested, they will doubtless hear from the Referees a full and free; 

4* 



42 INIQUITY DNFOLDEfi. 

expression of their views and feelings."* He then spoke of the spirit and 
temper manifested by my accusers, which I could not mention without a 
breach of confidence. And I am afraid {that what I have now said will 
be so regarded ; but when my present trying and peculiar position is con- 
sidered, I trust I shall be excused. 

This brings my story down to the close of the meeting of the Referees. 
Before I proceed any further, I beg leave just to recur to what I have 
already done to vindicate myself from the slanders and lies which have 
been uttered against me. I first gave my testimonial from the church in 
East Hartford. And is not that document worthy of credit ? — a docu- 
ment given me by a church of which I had been pastor for eleven years, 
and approved by such men as Samuel Pitkin, Epaphras Bidwell, Eliab 
Pratt. John Judson, Timothy Hall, and many others of high character 
and standing in the church and the community? Are the surmises and 
rumors originating as Mr. Spring truly says, i: with my personal enemies, 
and without a doubt malicious and false," to be weighed against such a 
document, and others of the like import, signed by ten of the most re- 
spectable clergymen in Hartford and vicinity, who had been associated 
with me in the labors of the ministry for many years, and who knew me 
so intimately ? If such testimonials, given by such men, are powerless 
against the tongue of slander, then verily have we fallen on bad times, 
and we may well inquire what man, and especial!) 7 what clergyman, is 
safe ?f 

As to the character of the Referees, before whom I confronted my for- 
mer deacons in South Boston, it is not necessary that I should say any- 
thing. The opinions and decision of such men, "after a severe and thor- 
ough scrutiny" of any moral question submitted to them, will not very 
likely be controverted by the citizens of Boston, or any other place where 
they are known. For, be it remembered, they held three long and tedi- 
ous sessions, commencing each day soon after two o'clock, and continuing 
till nearly midnight. They gave full liberty to the deacons to say ail they 
had to say, allowing them to begin, if they chose, as one of the Referees 
expressed it, "from the fall of Adam, and come down to the present time." 



* Daring the recess above mentioned, one or more of (he Eeferees received an anony- 
mous letter, entreating them to spare the deacons. I have seen that letter, and the 
hand-writing was quite familiar to me. It was doubtless written by one who was pres- 
ent at the trial, and who well knew what the result must be. And while he expected 
my acquittal, he begged that the deacons might not be censured. This might have been 
one reason why they were not censured. 

f Since writing the above, the Memoir of the Rev. Dr. Nettleton has fallen in:o my 
hands. 1 there find that even that godly and devoted servant of Chri t did not escape 
the tongue of calumny. His moral purity was. at one time so fiercely assailed, and 
such vile slanders reported about him, that several of the most eminent elergymen in 
Connecticut deemed it their duty to interpose in his behalf. And when that man of 
God was thus threatened with destruction, his brethren in the ministry and in the church 
did interpose their names and influence to save him. I would here refer the reader to 
»«veral no'es in his Memoir, commencing on page 353; and many more might have 
been added, for the matters there referred to are fresh in my own remembrance. 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 43 

And when they closed, the chairman asked them, "Gentlemen have you 
done ? Is this all ?" They said, "yea." 

I come now to another scene in this drama. Immediately after my 
acquittal by the Referees, I returned to Exeter, hoping that my enemies 
would then allow me quietly to puisue my Master's work, without far- 
ther let or hindrance. But on Saturday, June 15th, I received a letter 
from the Rev. N. Adams of Boston, informing me that certain papers had 
recently been put into his hands, accusing me of criminal connexion with 
Rhoda Davidson, and of being the father of her illegitimate child. And 
these papers, it seems, were procured at the instance of deacon Drake, 
carried by him to the Rev. Mr. Aiken, and by Mr. Aiken handed over 
to Mr. Adams. On Monday morning following, I took the early train of 
cars, and arrived at the house of Mr. Adams abont 9 o'clock. All the 
former Board of Referees, except Mr. Stearns, were soon present. Rho- 
da's paper was then read, signed by herself, and witnessed by Mrs. M. 
Robbins and Mrs. S. P. Shailer. Mrs. Easty's paper was also read, signed 
by herself, and written and witnessed by deacon Alvan Simonds.* The 
moment Mr. Adams had finished the reading, I raised my hand, and said 
with emphasis, " It is a tissue of falsehoods, from beginning to end. I 
never touched the girl. And what is founded on truth, is a gross mis- 
representation." This I presume the Referees will remember, was my 
very language. My letter to Rhoda was also read,f of which I readily 

* Mr. Adams assured me that these were the documents on which I was to|be tried ; 
that my accusers could not depart from them in their testimony before any tribunal ; 
that though they might say oiher things, yet if they contiadicted what they had now 
stated, it would invalidate their whole testimony. So I understood him ; and this, I 
suppose is the legal and proper view of the case. And yet both of them, upon the stand, 
did pilpably contradict, in more instances than one, what they had solemnly affirmed in 
their affidavits. 

t A great deal has been said about this letter, and various opinions have been ex- 
pressed as to its meaning and design. I do not know but that such a letter might have 
been written by a guilty man ; but I do know, and God knows, that it was not w-ritten 
by a guilty man. The Reviewer of the doings and Result of the Council, published 
first in the N. E. Puritan, and afterwards, with alterations and additions, in a pamphlet 
fjrm, has given a true exposition of that letter. And although he was an entire stranger 
t© meat the time, having never spoken to me or had one w-ord of communication with 
me, yet if he l.ai had his eye upon my heart, and known perfectly my views, and feel- 
ings, and motives, when writing that letter, he could not have given a more correct 
interpretation of us meaning. But there is one expression which he has not explained, 
and those who are determined to make me out a guilty man, inquire with an air of 
triumph, "How could Mr. Fairchild, if innocent, make use of this expression, 'What is 
done' cannot be undone V " By this expression, I meant simply the fact of her having 
obtained money from me in the manner she did. That was done, and could not be 
undone. I was willing to overlook and forgive all the wrong she had done me, if she 
would, in future, protect me from all harm, as she had promised to do ; not because I 
wis guilty, for she knew I never had any illicit connexion with her ; but because my 
character w T as as dear to me as life ; and also because I was a clergyman, and as such 
could not be even suspected of impurity without injuring that cause which was dearer 
to me than life. Besides, I thought at the time, that she was influenced by others to 
do as she had done, and this consideration weighed not a little on my mind when I 
wro.e that letter ; and I now think that if the powerful influence of money had not 
been brought to bear upon her, she never would have said and done what she has. 

One thing, I believe, is an admitted point among all men of common sense and com- 
mon honesty, viz. that in explaining a document of such a nature, the paper is to be 
taken as a whole, and not in detached parts. How then can any man say, unit 



44 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

acknowledged myself the writer. This letter had previously been put 
into the hands of deacon Drake by Rev. Mr. Shailer, a Baptist clergyman 
of Brookline. Copies of that letter were taken by the deacon or by his 
permission, and one of them shown, I am told, by Josiah Dunham in State 
street ; and on the very morning when my attempt at suicide was announc- 
ed in the Boston Times,* that letter was there published. How came 
it there except through deacon Drake 1 He, and he alone, was entrusted 
with my letter. Without his aid, therefore, or connivance, that letter 
could not thus have found its way to the public. It was done solely to 
injure me, — to impress on the minds of all a deep conviction of my guilt. 
As suicide, is, in general, deemed a confession, it was doubtless thought by 
my enemies to be very important that the letter should go out at that time;, 
for they well knew that my letter could not condemn me, without a pre- 
vious presumption of my guilt, while on a previous presumption of my 
innocence, it would tend rather to my acquittal than my condemnation. — 
For this object, beyond all doubt, the letter was published. And I shall 
never forget the solemnity and impressiveness of the remark made by 
Rev. Mr. Adams, when the publishing of that letter came up before the 
Council. Said Mr. A., "When I learned that the letter had been given 
to the public, I regarded the act as a felony." 

The Referees, after a short consultation in private, advised me. if in- 
nocent, either to indict those persons for a conspiracy to extort money 
from me, or to refer the matter to the Suffolk South Association for in- 
vestigation, or convene a Council in Exeter for their examination and 
decision. The last plan recommended was finally adopted. I think now 
that the first would have been preferable. 

I spent the night with Mr. Adams. I was greatly excited and distress- 
ed. My way seemed hedged up. I knew my innocence ; but where to 
look for one particle of evidence in my favor, I knew not. Could I have 
foreseen a tithe of the evidence which has since been obtained, I should 
have felt and acted differently. But as the case then stood, I w T as almost 
in despair. Mr. Adams went over to deacon Drake's in the evening, 
and returned with the information that my enemies were making arrange- 
ments to get out an indictment against me ; and though he had obtained 



blinded by prejudice or passion, that the letter, as a whole, is an acknowledgement of 
guilt, when the very first sentence is a denial of" it ? — a denial which has been made 
i:om the beginning ? And what shall we think of a man who begins a letter by a solemn 
denial of a charge made against him, and then goes directly on to admit it in the very 
same letter? Why, in such a case he would be 'deemed as acting more like a fool than 
a knave. 

*I would here express my gratitude to the editor of the Daily Times. for the kind man- 
ner in which he treated me. Even when he published my letter, he could not see in it 
that evidence of guilt which some fancied was as clear as the light of noon. He plead 
for chant)', and a suspension of judgment And in his article of the 5th of August, I 
could see the same spirit of courtesy and kindness. That paper fell into my hands while 
on my way to the White Mountains, and truly it was reviving to my almost bro- 
ken heart. For all this I thank him. 1 might say the same of the editor of the 
Daily Mail. He, too, has treated my case with much candor and fairness. These 
editors would not swell the cry, 'Crucify him ! crucify him ;" May God reward them. 
Indeed, I have noticed with pleasure that most of the secular presses have spoken of my 
painful case with moderation and sympathy. 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 45 

an assurance from the deacon that farther proceedings should, for the 
present, be arrested, yet, having sooften witnessed what little dependence 
I could place on his promises, I did not feel secure, and thought it prob- 
able that 1 should be arrested in the morning. I spent a sleepless night, 
arose early in the morning, secured a carriage to take me to the depot, and 
was waiting impatiently for its arrival, when Mr. Adams came down from 
his chamber. This was the time when he says he proposed the question 
to me as to my innocence or guilt, and when my appearance made such 
an unfavorable impression on his mind. The truth is, I have no distinct 
recollection of his proposing to me the question at that time. I was all 
excitement and anxiety about the arrival of the carriage, lest it should not 
come in season. And as it could not approach near Mr. A.'s house, the 
passage-way being obstructed by the erection of a new building, I went 
repeatedly to the door or window to watch the carnage at the head of the 
court. Considering this circumstance, and my fear of an indictment, I 
think no candid person will wonder at my strange appearance, or impute 
it to the cause which seemed to have impressed itself on the mind of Mr. 
A. Besides, I had denied it most solemnly and explicitly the morning 
previous ; and my experience has taught me that no man gains credit by 
the frequency of his oaths and denials. If I am not to be credited in 
one solemn asseveration. I should hardly expect to be by a frequent repe- 
tition. 

My readers will not I trust accuse me of arrogance or irreverence by 
reminding them that a certain Governor once proposed a question to the 
accused, and that the accused "answered him to never a word ; insomuch 
that the Governor marvelled gieatly." 

In this state of mind I returned to Exeter, hardly knowing where I 
was, or where I had been. When I look back to that period, there seems 
a mist of confusion and indistinctness about it which! cannot explain, 
except on the ground that my mind was then in an incipient state of de- 
rangement, which soon became complete, to the utter dethronement of 
my reason. Scarcely knowing what I did, (for I considered myself a 
ruined man,) I called the Church together, made a brief statement of my 
case, asserted my innocence, resigned my office, and before morning, be- 
came a maniac 1 Early on the second morning, I made the attempt on 
my life, which was described by Dr. Perry before the Council. The 
loss of blood soon restored my reason ; and I verily believed that my 
days and troubles were ended, — that my enemies had accomplished ail 
that they could do, and would of course be satisfied, though I fervently 
prayed then, and do now, that God would forgive them their wrongs to a 
man, who had never designedly injured them, or thrown a straw in their 
way.* 



* Since my recovery I have been told that my derangement broke out in ail its fury 
sometime after midnight, and that when the doctor and other gentlemen came in, I was 
afraid of them till assured that they were my friends, and that I then embraced them 
with much affection, and inquired with great agitaiion and terror whether Vinton and 
Drake were here; begging" that if they were, I might be kept from them ; but not even 
then .expressing the least enmity towards them, or any desire to injure them. Such 
was my train of thought when bereft of reason. 



46 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

In two weeks and one day from the time of this accident, so nearly 
fatal to my life, and when my feebleness ean be better imagined than de- 
scribed, I received a letter from the Rev. Mr. Riddel, chairman of the 
Committee of the Suffolk South Association, dated July 5th, summoning 
me to meet that Committee at a room in the Marlboro' Hotel, to confront 
my accusers. I will here quote the first paragraph of that letter: — "Sir, 
the Committee appointed by the Suffolk South Association, to investigate 
the charges made against you by Rhoda Davidson, have fixed upon Tues- 
day, July 9th inst., at 10 o'clock A. M., as the time when they will give 
you an opportunity to meet your accusers face to face, in presence of that 
Committee ; and to bring forward any testimony, or other evidence which 
you may have to produce in your own vindication against the said charges.'' 
The time of this meeting was afterwards deferred for one week. When 
this letter was received, I was still very feeble. What testimony or evi- 
dence the chairman thought I could produce in so short a time, and in 
such feeble health, is utterly beyond my power to conceive. It seemed 
to me that the Committee had allowed themselves to be duped by my 
enemies and accusers;* and giving full credit to their stories, they regard- 
ed me, of course, as a guilty wretch, unworthy to live among a christian 
people, a single day,— a sort of Jonah on board the ship, and that they 
must throw me overboard to save the ship from sinking, and the sooner 
it was done the better. I might have been mistaken, but such were my 
honest views, and being such I fearlessly proclaim them. I have no de- 
sire to injure these gentlemen. In their motives they might have been 
pure and upright ; and I would speak of their undue haste in this matter 
with all kindness. They probably felt themselves goaded on by public 
sentiment which was generally against me. And no wonder ; for the cir- 
cumstances, as they then appeared, were very dark. Every evil thing which 
my enemies could say or imagine was uttered against me; and nearly 

* When I speak of these gentlemen as being duped, it is not my design to excite any 
distrust, either of their acuteness or discernment. But since the Bible intimates the 
possibility that deception may be practiced on the very elect, why should they regard 
themselves as an exception ? They had to deal with an intelligent, cunning and artful 
girl, — oiu who had her lesson well prepared before they ever saw her, and ready to 
extricate herself from a sudden embarrassment with a quickness and a plausibility truly 
wonderful. An instance of this came out during her cross-examination. It had been 
testified by Mrs. Usher and Miss Mat! hews that she had represented herself to them as 
the natural sister of Mrs. Turnbull. For when they asked her who she was, being an 
entire stranger to them, she replied, "I am the sister of Mrs. Turnbull. Mr. Turnbull 
married^my sister." And how did she extricate herself from this difficulty ? Why, she 
replied, with the quickness of light ning, "I meant that Mr. Turnbull was the clergyman 
who married my sister to her husband !" I will give another instance of her art and 
cunning. She testified before the Council that her child bore a strong resemblance to 
me, and especially to my son William, whose hair and eyes are as black as ebony. But 
afterwards,, when her mother's deposition was read, stating that the child's hair was 
light and its eyes blue, like its mother's ; and Mr. Folsom testified to the same, having 
twice ^een the child and taken it. on his knee, she found herself in quite a quandary. 
One would think it almost impossible to get rid of this embarrassment. But she was 
ready at once, even for such an emergency as this. When reminded by one of t he fe- 
males at the public house of the palpable contradiction between her testimony and that 
of her mother and Mr. Folsom, as to the color of the child's hair, she replied, without a 
moment's hesitation, '-La ! Mr. Fairchild's hair is naturally light, but he colors it every 
morning." 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 47 

all, except those who had known me the longest and most intimately, did 
indeed regard me as "a wolf in sheep's clothing," — yea, as a devil incar- 
nate. 

Feeble as I then was, I at first agreed to obey the summons. But my 
persecutors, probably aware that I was coming, succeeded a few days be- 
fore, as I was credibly informed, in obtaining an indictment against me, 
either to prevent my going lo Boston, or to seize me on my arrival. — 
This, among other reasons, induced me to have my first trial before a 
Council in Exeter. And the meeting of this Council was pressed upon 
me, without giving me due time for preparation. In a letter now before 
me, written by Mr. Riddel, dated July 10th, only three weeks from the 
time of my derangement, stating that " the Association will not come to 
their Result in the case, until after the meeting of the Council at Exeter, 
if that Coancil is held soon. If it could be convened as soon as Wed- 
nesday of next week, it would be desirallle. The more prom ply yon 
meet the case, the better."* I concluded from this letter, that there was 



*The manner in which Mr. Riddel conducted the prosecution against me, was a mat 
ter of susprise and grief to me, as well as to many others. About a week before the 
Council met, he came to see me. We received him as a friend. We confided to him 
our secrets. We stated to him our evidence from Edgecomb, thinking that he would 
be as much gratified to learn the evidence in my favor, as any other friend. He prom- 
ised not to mention the fact to any one ; and I presume he kept his promise. But in 
his examination of the principal witness, he evidently availed himself of that informa- 
tion to my injury. Instead of acting the part of a mutual friend, uncommitted to either 
side, as I expected, no lawyer could have been more anxious to save his client than he 
was to save her. He was not contented to let her tell her story in her own way • but 
proposed questions of such a nature and in such a form as would lead any witness, de- 
void of conscience and the fear of God, to testify falsely. He tried to invalidate my 
depositions from Edgecomb, taken as they were under the sanction of an oath, and he 
would evidently have been glad to exclude them altogether from the Council. At one 
time, in the course of Rhoda's cross-examination, she grossly insulted me, so that I felt 
compelled to claim the protection of the Moderator. Mr. R. immediately arose, with a 
countenance of cherry hue, and claimed protection for the witness. This satisfied me 
that I should not be permitted, in the presence of the Council, to charge home upon the 
witness her abominable lies, without a scene of uproar and confusion which might 
greatly impede their proceedings. I then suffered them to go on, without contradiction, 
to the end. Mr. Riddell treated Rhoda with great attention, — walked arm in arm with 
her to and from the Lecture Room, in such a lover-like manner as to excite disgust, — 
and in all respects conducted towards her, as if he thought her a paragon of purity and 
virtue. And I have recently received a letter from a gentleman of high standing in the 
church and community, residing in another State, who, in noticing the above circum- 
stances, exclaims in amazement, "Miss Rhoda arm in arm with the Rev. Mr. Riddel ! 
Really, very fine ! I think the remembrance of his gallantry at Exeter will not be a 
very agreeable reminiscence with him." But I do hope that she will never take advan- 
tage of it, to serve him as she has me, though I nev&r walked with her arm in aim. It 
may be well for him, however, to be on his guard. And all this was done, be it re- 
membered, when she was publicly proclaiming her own shame without a blush, and 
boldly acknowledging that she had violated her oath, made to me before God, that if I 
would pay her money, she would preserve me harmless, — a man who, as she well knew, 
had never wronged her. Why, the very circumstances under which she came forward, 
ought to have made him cautious and distrustful of such a witness. As she felt not the 
obligation of her oath to me, how could he believe that she felt the obligation of her 
©ath totellthe truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth to the Couneil ? He 
ought to have reflected that any person who will lie to obtain money once, will lie to 
obtain money a second time. For money she promised not to lie about me, and for 
money she violated that promise. If Mr. Riddel came to the Council convinced, (as he 
evidently did) that she would tell the truth, and that I would lie, how could he leave 
the Council with that conviction ? In her cross examination, which was lame and mea 



48 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

a determination on the part of the Comm ; ttee, to expel me from the As- 
sociation, (when they well knew that I could not appear before that body 
to defend myself,) " if the Council was not held soon." And to have 
the fact come before the Council that, I had been expelled, 1 knew must 
operate greatly to my disadvantage ; and therefore I consented to assem- 
ble them weeks before 1 could be properly prepared. But I do not re- 
gret it now ; nor do I complain of their Result. The public, I believe, 
are now much more likely to come to a knowledge of the truth in the case, 
than they would have been had the Council acquitted me. Of one thing 
I am sure, that had I been acquitted, the story of my wrongs would 
never have been published to the world. Of course many would never 
have been furnished with the means of judging correctly as to my inno- 
cence or guilt. 

I will now state the plan adopted and the means employed to induce 
Rhoda Davidson publicly to accuse me. A gentleman in Boston told 
deacon Vinton that a girl w T ho once lived in my family had become the 
father of an illegitimate child. Deacon V. immediately communicates 
the fact to deacon Drake, and he, being quicker on the scent and lighter 
on the foot than deacon V. soon commences a search for the girl. He 
quickly learns that the Rev. Mr. Shailer, of Brookline, is the very man to 



gre enough, she was detected in many falsehoods. The Reviewer oi my trial has point- 
ed out about a dozen ; and if the Report had been more full, he might have greatly 
enlarged the number. But as Mr! R. came to the Council with his mind made up as to 
my guilt, so he left the Council with his mind unchanged. And it would seem ihat 
even the condemnation of the Council would not satisfy him. He was not willing to 
have the public believe that there were even six members of the Council who voted 
for my acquittal. He returns to Boston and writes a letter, as I am credibly informed, 
to some friend in a distent part of the State, and permits an extract of that letter to be 
published in the N. E: Puritan,— an extract which has given me more pain than any 
an.t all the pieces which I have seen published on my case. A part of that extract I 
will here quote. " The long conflict is over. The triumph of truth and justice is 
gained. The Council at Exeter brought in their result yesterday between 5 and 6 o'- 
clock P. M. to convict Mr. Fairchild of all the charges. The vote stood 19 to 6. The 
six who did not concur, are not to be understood as voting for his acquittal. The 
verdict is virtually unanimous; and that of the public, I may say, entirely so. 

Great indignation is felt in view of the details of the case ; and although Mr. came 

ro me at Exeter after the decision, and said that if Mr. Fairchild's friends would now 
test satisfied, he thought the prosecution might be stopped, and that he should advise it; 
still I find this morning some of our best citizens earnest for a continuance." To de 
pose me from the ministry on the testimony of a false witness, thus rbinging disgrace 
upon my wife and children as dear to me as his own can be to him, and depriving me 
of the means of feeding and clothing them, did not satisfy Mr. Riddel. He must rep- 
resent the Council as virtually unanimous in their sentence of condemnation, and the 
public as entirely so. Even this is not enough; but he plainly intimates a wish that 
I may be demanded by the civil authorities for a further prosecution. Why this anxiety 
to crush and destroy me ? Had I ever done him any wrong ? Had I been a disgrace to 
the ministry, on a standing in it of thirty years ? Had the church received no benefit 
from my past services ? I dare not trust myself to comment on such feelings and wishes, 
indulged by a minister of that gospel which enjoins mercy, forbearance and kindness, 
even to the guilty. Before he writes another such letter, would it not be well for him 
to read, and inwardly digest the 12th verse of the 7th chapter of Matthew? I must here 
state, for it is true, that in less than two weeks after this extract from his letter was 
published, he called on me at Saco, and kindly invited me to visit him whenever I came 
to Boston! I did not then even suspect him as the author of that letter. Who can blame 
me for exclaiming in the language of Job ; < k My brethren have dealt deceitfully as a 
brook." 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 49 

give him the desired information. Accordingly, on the 22nd day of May, 
only one week from the time of my acquittal by the Referees, the deacon 
starts off with all speed to Mr Shailer's, some three miles distant, and 
there holds his first interview with him. What passed between them is 
best known to themselves. It seems, however from Mr. Shailer's testi- 
mony before the Council, that he then had his suspicions of some one, 
but not of me. Then the deacon disclosed to Mr. S. his suspicions that 
I was the man. After some further conversation, the deacon goes home, 
and returns again to Mr. S on the 29th of May in the evening, and there 
holds his second interview with Mr. S. On the 4th of June the deacon 
makes his third call, and requests Mr. S. to go to Taunton, where the 
girl was then residing, to see if she would make any disclosure. And as 
rumor, (so Mr. S. says,) had involved him in the matter, he thought it 
due to himself, to get her to reveal the whole affair. Mr. S. goes to 
Taunton for this purpose on the 5th of June, has a private interview with 
Rhoda, asks her to disclose the matter to him, tells her that the facts 
ought to come out, and that the cause of religion demanded it. He tells 
her further, that "people suspect Mr. Fairchild, and they will take him up 
on suspicion, and you will have to go to the Police Court, and swear to 
it ; and therefore it will be belter for you to disclose it at once." Was 
there no deception here? Is it possible for Mr. S. to be so ignorant of 
the law as not to know that such an occurrence could not have happened ? 
Did he not know that the law compels no one to implicate himself? This 
was doubtless done to frighten her. But she said that she had done all she 
expected to do, — that she had taken an oath to say nothing on the subject, 
which she legaided as sacred. He then asked her "if she would clear 
Mr. Fairchild?" She replied, "I will not clear any one." He then 
began to talk to her about the money she was to receive, and told her there 
were individuals who would make up the amount to her. He then 
touched the rio;ht cord. The argument that the clearing him and the 
welfare of religion required a disclosure, it seems, had little weight. But 
when the payment of money was spoken of, there was in it a powerful 
charm. She concluded to go with him to Boston. Accordingly she takes 
the cars that afternoon in company with Mr. Shailer who pays her fare, 
goes directly to S. Boston, to see, as she says, her sister, and prob- 
ably the deacons also,* returns that evening to Mr. Shailer's, makes her 

* And yet the deacons would feign make the world believe that they had no connec- 
tion with this transaction. Being apprehensive that I should introduce their treatment 
of me as a part of my defence before the Council, they sent to that Body a remon- 
strance, protesting against their hearing any such charge or imputation. Among other 
reasons which they assign, this is one . '• Because we think it irrelevant to the case in 
hearing, which we understand to relate to charges brought by Rhoda Davidson, with 
which we do not consider ourselves connected, not having ever conversed with her or 
the principal witnesses in the case." Yes, these are the very words of the protest, 
signed, Josiah Vinton and Jeremy Drake. They here assert that they have no connec- 
tion with Rhoda Davidson in the charges brought by her against me ! Why, their 
hands, and feet, and tongues are plainly visihle in every movement pertaining to this 
matter. Without them Mr. Shailer would not have gone to Taunton in search of Rh o- 
da, or have promised her money to induce her to charge me with crime. This is evi- 
dent from Mr. Shailer's testimony before the Council. At the time of deacon Drake's 
first interview with him, Mrs. Shailer was out of town, and she was to be inquired of by 
5 



50 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

disclosures, spends the night there, and returns the next day to Taunton. 
In the meantime a confidential letter which had been intrusted by Rhoda 
to Mr. S,, and to which he had no more right than he had to my purse, 
was given by him to deacon Drake. Here then we see a Reverend cler- 
gyman of another denomination, at the instigation of a deacon of an Or- 
thodox Church, to neither of whom was 1 in any wise responsible for my 
morals, threatening, and coaxing, and then hiring a girl to reveal a matter, 
which she had solemnly sworn before God to keep ! And all this, they 
would have the world believe was for the glory of God and the good of 
the Church ! Why, they have done more, by this one transaction, to 
wound the cause of religion and disgrace the ministry, than they will ever 
be able to atone for, should they live a thousand years, 
r* But the climax in this affair is now to come. A few days after Rhoda 
had returned to the public house in Taunton, Mrs. Shailer called to see 
her, takes her into a private room, reads to her a paper drawn up by her 
husband, containing grave charges against me. This she carefully reads 
over to Rhoda, and when she bad got her ready to sign it, Mrs. Robbins, 
the lady of the house, is called in to witness the signature. Q( course 
Mrs. R. then became acquainted with what was goinsj on, and very prop- 
erly communicated the matter to her husband. Rhoda stated to Mr. 
Robbins that Mrs. Shailer wanted her to return directly to Boston with 
her; but she concluded for certain reasons, not to go till the next day. 
Mr. Robbins soon takes an opportunity to converse with Rhoda alone 
about the matter. He says to her, " Rhoda, what could induce you to 
do such a thing ?" And after assigning several reasons why she should 
not have done it, he repeats the question, "What could have induced yon 
lo do so? ,r To which she replied : " 1 am to have twice as much for 



her husband on her return, as to the particulars stated to him by the deacon. When 
the deacon made his second call on Mr. S. though his wife had returned, yet he seems 
not to have deemed the matter of such .pressing importance as to have lea him to say 
any thing further to her on the subject. The deacon again returns home evidently dis- 
appointed in not obtaining what he so anxiously desired. But when he goes to Mr._ 
Shailer's the third time hi had a plan contrived by which to compel Mr. S. to action. 
The deacon told him that rumor had involved him (Mr S.) in the matter. Then the 
reverend gentleman thought, as he stated to the Council, that it was due to himself and 
society, to endeavor to ascertain the whole truth of the affair. Here we see deacon 
Drake goading on Mr. S. to get a disclosure from Rhoda Davidson ; an I among other 
arguments employed, telling him that if he declined doing so, he would probably have 
to father the child himself. And yet the deacon has the effrontery to tell a Christian 
Council in writing with his own name attached, that he did not consider himself at all 
connected with the charges brought against me by Rhoda Davidson ! Whereas had it 
not been for him and his associates, it is as clear as the sun in a clouldless sky, that no 
such charges would ever have been made. And yet these men would have others be- 
lieve them to be so very sanctimonious and holy, and so deeply concerned for the hon- 
or and purity of the ministry, as to start bick with horror at the bare suspicion that a 
clergyman, totally disconnected from them, might have been guilty of impurity. The 
girl herself testified to the Council that she was desired, (she might have said hired) to 
reveal the affair, " because it would cause people not to think so hard of the deacons of 
the Church at S. Boston, who were suspicious of Mr. Fairchild upon some other af- 
fairs." And yet these same deacons affirm that they did not consider themselves at all 
connected with the matter, while they themselves, either personally or by their agents, 
were the moving cause and the instigators of the whole transaction ! Surely it be- 
comes those men to read and ponder well what the Savior says about the mote and the 
beam. 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 51 

revealing as I should have had jor keeping (he 'secret" Mr. Robbins 
then said, " I don't believe a word of it. It is all a humbug, Rhoda." 
To which she replied : " They have secured it to me." Mr. R. then in- 
quired : " Who are they ?" She replied, u Mr. Shailcr and the deacons. 
Thai's what I went to South Boston Jor with Mr. Shailer" 

This statement of Mr. Robbins, which he says he is ready to make 
before any Council or Jury, cannot be disputed. He gave it freely and 
unsolicited, because, as he said, he believed me to be an innocent and in- 
jured man, having come to this conclusion from certain circumstances 
which passed under his own observation. And though an entire stranger 
to me, having; never heard my name except from Rhoda, he voluntarily 
and repeatedly made this statement to different ^individuals. And I take 
this opportunity thus publicly to express to him my heart-felt gratitude 
for his aid in unfolding this iniquity. If the deaconsancl Mr. Shailer deny 
having promised and secured money to Rhoda in this manner, and thus 
discredit their own witness, it belongs not to me to complain. This surely 
is their affair and her affair, and not mine.* 

Near the close of the public session of the Council, an incident occur- 
red which it may be proper here to state. In reply to Mr. Adams, who 
had been testifying to his impressions,! I stated that Mr. A. had misap- 



* I will here state that a portion of the evidence which it was proposed to introduce 
before the Council when in secret session, related to this very point. Several gentle- 
men arrived that morning from South Boston, with additional testimony in my favor; 
and among other things they were prepared to state to the Council that Mr.W.P. a mem- 
ber of the Phillips Church, and connected with deacon Drake's family by marriage, 
had said there was a paper in existence signed- as he understood, by the deacons and 
two or three others, to secure the payment of a certain sum of money to Rhoda David- 
son ; and although he had not seen the paper himself, yet a gentleman told him that 
he had seen it. The youngest son' of deacon Drake has since been heard to say that 
this affair would cost five hundred dollars, and that his father would probably have to 
pay one hundred of it. And as two hundred and fifty dollars would have remained 
due to Mr. Davidson from me, if the affair had not been divulged, it seems rational to 
conclude that the sum of five hundred dollars had been secured to Rhoda, being, as she 
said to Mr. Robbins, twice as much as she would otherwise have received. I have since 
been informed that this money was not to be paid to Rhoda, except on condition that I 
was convicted. Thus the public will see what a powerful motive was pressing upon 
her to testify as she did before the Council. 

t This testifying to impressions under oath, to deprive a man of' his character, is, I 
believe, quite a new thing, whether in Councils or in Courts. And when Mr. Adams 
arose and was sworn to testify, the scene was most deeply interesting and solemn. — 
The stillness of death pervaded the crowded assembly. My own mind was in perfect 
suspense as to what he might state till it was uttered ; and if Dr. Perry had testified to 
the same thing. I could not have been more surprised. I had previously affirmed to 
him and Mr. Riddel, in my parlor, as in the presence of God, with the judgment seat 
in view, and without sany mental reservation whatever, that I never had any car- 
nal connexion with Rhoda Davidson. But it seems I did not say it in such a man- 
ner as he would have said it, nor kneel down as he thought he should have done, 
therefore' the impression on his mind was unfavorable. But different men have dif- 
ferent ways of doing ludie same thing. I kneel to no being but my Maker. However, 
these strong impressions on Mr. A.'s mind produced strong impressions on the minds 
of others. Before he thus testified, the current of feeling was evidently in my favor. 
This was noticed by all. But that testifying, which was done in a manner so solemn 
and impressive, turned the tide against me, though no one could tell why, for it was 
not evidence. But the work was done. I was then just as well convinced of my fate 
as I was after the Result of Council was made known to me. And my only surprise 



52 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

prehended me, — that I was not conscious of having done any thing to 
leave such an impression on his mind, — and that if he had misapprehend- 
ed me then, he ought to be satisfied with what I had since affirmed. I 
then reminded him that a dying hour was an honest hour, and that 1 had 
asserted my innocence of the crimes charged against me to those around 
my bed, when neither they nor myself expected that I should live anoth- 
er hour. I added that I did not know that my veracity had ever been 
doubted. In a moment Mr. Riddel was on his feet, and said, "As the 
gentleman says that he is not aware that his veracity has ever been called 
in question, I beg leave to read a letter from deacon Simonds of the Phil- 
was that there were so many as six members of the Council who remained firm, and 
determined not to cori'Mcf on impressions, but on evidence. I have not conversed with 
a single individual who witnessed ihat transaction, who has not said that that one act, 
which was neither according to law or gospel, did more to convict me than all the 
testimony of my accusers. I do not say this to cast censure upon Mr. Adams. I state 
it because it is a fact, — an undisputed fact. Mr. A. was doubtless honest, in what he 
said and did. He believed me guilty on the girl's story, told in Boston, with no one 
to contradict or cross-question her. He probably did not then dream that she had been 
hired to tell what she did. And therefore, believing me guilty, he thought it right to 
take the course he did in order to impress a conviction of guilt on the minds of others. 
But I would ask Mr. A. whether it would not have been more in accordance with the 
spirit of the gospel and christian courtesy, if he had come to me and requested an ex- 
planation as to the impressions which I intended to leave on his mind? for those im- 
pressions were chiefly made in private at his house, and in a state of mind on my 
part, bordering on insanity. Before proclaiming to the Council and the world, the im- 
pressions thus made, it seems to me he should have first sought a private interview 
with me, to ascertain whether he might not possibly have received impressions which 
I never designed to make. But Mr. A., it would seem, came to the Council with his 
mind made up, and therefore all the false swearing of the principal witness against me, 
had no effect to change it. He heard her false statements — he must have known them 
to be false. But he evidently thought there was truth enough in her story to condemn 
me, notwithstanding. Whereas if a witness had been testifying against him, the mo- 
ment I discovered her telling one palpaple falsehood, I should have thrown her whole 
testimony to the winds, as unworthy of the least credit. Besides, Mr. A. thought that 
there was something in my letter which was a virtual acknowledgement of guilt, when 
the very first sentence in it is a direct denial of guilt. He thought, too, that I ought to 
have revealed to him the name of my friend who gave me the money, when I assured 
him that I was under the obligation of an oath not to do so. And iff had done it, I 
very much doubt whether all who wished me to do if. would have been half so lenient 
towards me as they were towards Bhoda, for violating her oath and promise. But I 
could not gratify him. If others think lightly of promises, I do not. The Bible says 
that a righteous man sweareth to his own hurt, and changeth not. Bu» I love Mr. 
Adams still. We have taken sweet counsel together, and deeply sympathized with 
each other. He was my chosen preacher at my installation in Exeter, and I do trust 
that we shall yet meet in heaven, where he will be convinced, if not before, that his 
impressions were groundless. But while he remains in the flesh, and has around him 
a beloved wife and children, I do fervently pray that his character and standing in the 
ministry may never be taken from him by false witnesses, or by any one testifying to 
his own impressions. It did seem to me at the time that he was reserved by my pros- 
ecutors as the last witness against me, to render my acquittal by the Council hopeless. 
Whether so designed or not, such was the effect beyond all dispute. I think it due to 
Mr. Adams to state that the morning after he had been testifying to his impressions, 
he called on me. During our conversation he said, " I think I hurt myself more last 
evening, than I did you; and I now say to you, don't despond. If the Council should 
condemn you, and you are innocent, take courage. God will yet make a way for 
it to appear." I then remarked, ''Brother Adams, how could you have misapprehen- 
ded me so ?•" He replied, "Well, I think that your declarations when you supposed 
yourself to be dying, ought to be set off against it."- And when he arose to go, the 
last words he uttered, as he closed the door/were, "'Do write me, brother." 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 53 

lips Church.** The letter was read: from which it appeared that deacon 
S. had received the impression that I had falsified the truth to him in a 
conveisation with him a few weeks before I asked my dismission from the 
church in South Boston. The circumstances were these. Mr. S. (for 
he was not then a deacon) who was at that time a warm friend of mine, 
saw me one day, and of his own accord, expressed his regret at certain 
treatment which I had received from the deacons a few evenings before in 
my study, where we had met to examine candidates for admission to the 
church. I replied that that was a trifle compared with other things they 
had done, and told him, in perfect confidence, that I should leave to get 
rid of them ; — that if every man, woman, and child in the parish should 
request me to stay, I would not. And I left the impression on his mind 
that he was the only person who knew it. And when he came to learn 
that there was a previous understanding between the deacons and myself, 
that I was to leave about that time, he inferred that I must have lied to 
him. But the truth was, that 1 did not then know that the deacons 
and Mr. Howe knew that I was going to leave, for it depended on a con- 
tingency then unknown to me. They might have divulged the matter 
without my knowledge of it, although the probability was that they had 
not ; for they were as desirous to get rid of me, as I was to get rid of 
them. They well knew that I was not going to leave if they had made 
an attack upon my character to any one ; for in that case I should have 
remained and defended myself. But when my defence was over I was 
determined to leave, if every man, woman and child in the parish should 
request me to stay. This was a fact which the deacons did not know. 
For what peace or happiness could I have had with such men around 
me, on my right hand and on my left ? I did not intend to deceive Mr. 
Simonds. My object in enjoining secrecy upon him was to prevent my 
people from knowing it, lest they should come to me and urge me to re- 
main, and insist on knowing whether I had not other reasons for leaving 
than ill health ; and as I was anxious to preserve the peace of the 
Church, whose union it had been my constant aim to promote, I wished 
to avoid all such inquiries, lest that peace should be destroyed. Thus it 
is evident that what I said was literally true, though he misapprehended 
me. This matter I explained to him a short time previous to the meet- 
ing of the Referees. He appeared to be entirely satisfied with my ex- 
planation. If he was not satisfied, why did he not bring up the matter 
before the Referees? He was present at all their sessions, but he opened 
not his lips on the subject. He might have done it, had he been so dis- 
posed. I thought his letter to the Council was, to say the least, very 
unkind and ungenerous. I could not help thinking of an interview be- 
tween him and Mr. Dunbar, which took place in the month of March 
last. And I would ask Mr. Simonds whether he has forgotten the secret 
which Mr. Dunbar then intrusted to his keeping, with unlimited confi- 
dence in his veracity, and how soon that important secret came to Mf. 
Dunbar's ears from a person living half a mile in another direction ? This 
circumstance contributed not a little to convince Mr. D. that there was a 
deep laid plot to destroy me, though at the ruin of his own family. I 
would further ask deacon S* whether the tongue of slander was never te 
5* 



54 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

loose against him, and whether he ever knew me to give credit or curren- 
cy to the slander? "They who live in glass houses should be careful how 
they throw stones." 

I must now go back a little in my story. On the 19th of June, the 
very day of my derangement, the following letter, the original of which 
now lies before me, was written by Mr. Cranston Howe, directed unyaid 
to Rufus Sewell Esq. of Edgecomb. 

Boston, Jvke 19ih, 1844. 
Sir : — Although I am an entire stranger to you, I take the liberty of addressing you 
upon a subject that has caused us much anxie'y, and is producing great excitement 
here. 

It is stated by Miss Rhoda Davidson, (whose parents reside in your town.) that she 
lived in the family of the Rev. Joy H. Fail child, in the year 1840, and onward ; and 
that she was seduced by him, and; by whem she had an illegitimate child born in the 
month of September, 1842. At this time Mr. Fairchikl was ihe Pastor of the Phillips 
Church, South Boston, of which church I was then, and now am a member. About 
this time the deacons of said church, myself, and some others, entertained strong sus- 
picions against the moral and religions character of Mr. Fairchild, stated the grounds 
of our suspicions to him, upon which he agreed to resign his office as Pastor of Phillips 
Church, and leave South Boston, it we would keep (he grounds of our suspicions secret. 
Having no positivesgproof in the case, we agreed to do so. Mr. Fairchild left as he 
agreed, and has since been settled in Exeter, N. H. One event has followed another. 
until the Providence of God has brought to light this new matter. Mi.-s Pi hod a David- 
son made a full confession of all the circumstances to the Rev. Mr. Shaffer, a Baptist 
clergyman residing in the town of Brookiine, near Boston, with whom she had former- 
ly lived. The circumstances ate very aggravated j he using arguments from the Bi- 
ble to accomplish his purpose, and to justity his conduct. She state.- he continued his 
illicit intercourse with her for nearly two years. When he found that she was in the 
family vay, be. gave her one hundred dollars and sent her home, and agreed, if .-lie 
would keep the matter seeret and shield him from' all suspicion, h- would pay fifty 
dollars per annum, till the sum of five hundred dollars was paid. Mrs. Mary Easty,. 
Rhoda's sister, was present when this arrangement was made. She sayo ;hat Mr. 
Fairchild acknowledged that he had had intercourse with Rhoda, and thai if her situa- 
tion was as they feared, he would do all he could Hov her if they would keep it secret. 

Rhoda has also put an anonymous letter into our hands, in which he virtual'!)- ac- 
knowledges the fact. In this letter he spc-aks of an interview with Ehodu's father. — 
of an agreement to pay money, — of their solemn- oath and promise to save him Prom- 
all suspicion, &c. 

The matter has been communicated to Mr. Fairchild. Pl> acknowledges himself the 
author of that Letter, and says that he has paid the sum of two hundred dollars, not that 
he is guilty, but to prevent their injuring ins character; they having conspired togeth- 
er to extort money from him. 

I have thus given you a general view of the whole subject. And the object of .-..y 
writing you is to request you to see Mr. William Davidson, Rhoda : s father, upon the 
subject, and ascertain all the facts in the case. I wish a statement of all the circum- 
stances over his own signature, together with such further infor-niatton as ywii may be 
able to give. This I think due to Mr. Duddson, to PJioda his danglrer, and to the 
cau:se of morality and religion. If you will give this subject your immediate atte-mi •;;. 
and write me at the earliest opportunity, you" will aid me" cause of the uppre >se it, 61 
betrayed innocence, and much oblige Your Ob r t Serv't, 

CRANSTON HOWE. 
Rufus Sewell Esq. 

P. S. A friend of mine wrote to the Post Masipr at Edgecomb upon this ?4bjeet. — 
lie did not know his name and had no acquaintance with him Will you see him. and 
have the matter managed prudently. The letter was dire, ted, Eust Master, Edge- 
comb, Lincoln County, South Post Office, Maine.* 



*The letter referred to in this postscript was read to Mr. Davidson by the Post Master. 
and Mr. D. replied that he had nothing to say about the matter, only that his daughters 
had acted very foolishly. The next day he went to sea. if he believed that / <:• as the 



,- INIQUITY UNTOLDED. 55 

I should like, had T time and space, to give this letter a critical exam- 
ination. But I must allow the reader to examine the letter, while I pro- 
ceed to examine the writer. In the meantime there are some things in 
it which I cannot wholly pass unnoticed. The spirit which dictated it 
and the object to be accomplished by it, all must see. Had it been sim- 
ply a letter of inquiry, with an honest desire to get at the truth, why this 
attempt to blacken my character by a narration of circumstances which 
had been pronounced by the Referees, as giving no just cause for 
casting imputations on my moral and ministerial character? The letter 
is chiefly valuable to me on account of its admissions. Mr. Howe 
admits that he and the deacons agreed to keep the grounds of their sus- 
picions secret, on condition that I would resign my office. I did resign. 
But their grounds of suspicion notwithstanding, were made public, and 
ultimately came out in the form of a Circular. He admits that I was to 
pay fifty dollars a year till the sum of five hundred dollars was paid. — - 
Rhoda testified before the Council that 1 was to pay ninety dollars a year 
indefinitely. 

But I have much more to do with the vjritcr than with the litter. — • 
And who is Cranston Howe ? I wonder what arguments he used to ac- 
complish hi$ purpose before marriage? Or was it so easily accomplished 
as to require no arguments at. all ? When some of his former customeis 
suspected that he had not dealt honestly with them, i wonder what argu- 
ments he employed to convince them of their mistake. What arguments 
did he employ to the mother of his partner in trade, who committed sui- 
cide, to convince her xhat the death of her son was not occasioned by his 
unkind treatment of him? Has he forgotten the letter which the young 
nan left behind, or the letter which his mother wrote him soon after the 
untimely death of her sou? U he has forgotten, I have not. Has he for- 
gotten that he told his neighbor Mr. P. soon after the meeting of the Ref- 
erees, that nobody believed Mrs. Dunbar guilty ? Why then does lie write 
such a letter, in which he virtually says that she is guilty ? 

The above letter was read, by Mr. Sewell to the mother of Rhoda. — ■ 
On the 29th of June Rhoda writes to her mother, whose letter is now 
before me, and from which i will quote an extractor two. "I want )cu, 
mother, to feel that I am surrounded by friends, who will not desert me 
so long as i contend for breath. .Be ready to see any one who may come 
to see you about this, and don't misrepresent any thing that I have told 
you about my lovers, because you might misconstrue something to my 
disadvantage." These letters, and especially Mi". Howe's, were admi- 
rably adapted, and undoubtedly designed to forestall the opinion of the 
mother, and to prejudice her mind against me. But there was a failure 
here. For if the mother had been convinced that I was such a man as 
Mr. H. represents me to be, and Rhoda as pure and virtuous as he would 
have the mother believe, how came it to pass that she expressed an opin- 



faiher of Rhoda's child, why did he not dictate a letter to that effect ? If the writer of 
that letter had only promised to double the amount of money which he expected to re- 
ceive from me, as has since been promised to Rhoda, he might possibly have obtained 
the desired information,, and detained Mr p. at. home to protect his daughters. 



56 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

ion directly the reverse ? She well knew her daughter ; and though she 
had the feelings of a mother, yet conscience and a regard to truth com- 
pelled her to say what she did in her depositions. No undue influence 
was used, as some have supposed, to have her testify in my favor. In- 
deed, her feelings from the beginning were wholly on my side, so much 
so that she discovered an unwillingness to speak on the subject to Mr. 
Folsom, until she was satisfied he was my friend. She then communicated 
freely and of her own accord what was written down from her lips by Mr. 
F. and made oath to by her in the presence of T. W. Chadbourn, Jus- 
tice of the Peace. The following is a portion of her second deposition : 
11 I have said, and now say, that as much as Rhoda disgraced herself by 
being the mother of said cnild, she has, in my opinion, disgraced herself 
still more by the statements which I understand she has made relative 
to Mr. Fairchild. I am constrained to say that I have the strongest fears 
that my said daughter Rhoda is in the hands of bad advisers, and that 
under such circumstances she has said and done that which is decidedly 
wrong and untrue. I know that under the pretence of friendship and 
worldly advantage, she could be very easily influenced to do wrong, when 
instigated to do so by men who would have her believe them to be her 
friends. Rhoda brought home with her in May 1842, the sum of forty- 
two dollars, and no more that I know of. What she did with the money 
which she received in Boston, beside that sum, is unknown to me, except 
the payment of her fare and expenses here, which I understood was 
about eight dollars. She came home at that time more poorly clad, and 
witli less clothing than usual, and without the least preparation for her 
confinement. My husband asked Rhoda what she had done with the 
other fifty dollars, and Rhoda said that she had brought home all that she 
had left. Mr. Davidson reckoned up her expenses and bills, and could 
not account for the deficiency. Rhoda concluded that she must have 
lost it. Rhoda has told me that when she left Mr. Fairchild's house, (left 
living there,) she went directly to Mr. Chapin's in Abington. I have 
often heard Rhoda say that Mr. Fairchild was an excellent man, and a 
true christian. I heard Mr. Davidson ask Rhoda how many times she 
had had intercourse with the father of her child, and she replied, but once, 
and that was by great persuasion, if not by force." Such is the mother's 
deposition, given under the sanction of an oath. And all this, be it re- 
membered, she solemnly affirms, after having read the letter of Mr. Howe 
and of her daughter. 

But this letter was not enough to satisfy Mr. Howe. In July or Au- 
gust he writes another letter to Mr. Sewell, requesting him to get access 
to Mr. Davidson, as soon as he returned from his fishing voyage, and ob- 
tain from him his story. He landed at midnight on Saturday, and before 
the Sabbath was gone, Mr. Sewell was with him. But this is not all. — 
I am told that when the vessel put in at the Gut of Canso, away off in 
the British dominions, a gentleman goes on board with a Report of rny 
trial before the Council, and has an interview with him alone. What 
passed between them may be easily inferred. 

And now, as I am informed, the plan is to get the father to sustain 
Mrs. Easty's testimony, that while I denied the paternity of the child, I 



INIQUITY UNFOLD E^D . 57 

admitted the intercourse — a distinction which I never thought of, till 
others had made it for me. Is it possible that I should admit that, which 
would have been as fatal to my character as what 1 denied, and which I 
must have known might have been used against me at some future day ! 
If I were guilty, 1 need not have admitted it ; if innocent, I could not. 
But this plan will not avail them. j\lr. Samuel Merry, a near neighbor 
of Mr. Davidson, deposes and says " that when at work with Mr. D. at 
Boothbay in the summer of 1843, Mr. D. said to him that after Rhoda's 
child was born, he went to Boston and saw the man that Rhoda said was 
the father of her child, and told him that Rhoda had laid the child to 
him ; and that the man upon heating this appealed to be amazed, and ut- 
terly denied being the father of the child, and said it could not be." Now 
surely if 1 had made any such admission to him as is pretended, would he 
not have stated the fact to Mr. Merry ? Nothing could have been more 
natural. But he says nothing like it to Mr. Merry. And Mr. L). can- 
not say it under oath without perjury. He knows that no such admis? 
sion was made, and no such question asked me. Neither lie nor I 
thought at the time of any such distinction as has since been contrived by 
my enemies. He well knows that my statement before the Council pub- 
lished in the Report of my trial, of my interview with him is strictly true, 
and that if he departs from it to save his daughter, he does it at the expense 
of a perjured soul. If I had made any such admission, how could he 
go home and tell his wife what she testified he did in her first deposition ! 
She there affirms under oath that her husband told her " thai the man, 
(meaning me) positively and solemnly denied ail knowledge ofherfRho- 
da,^ or of being the father of her child." Since his return from fishing, 
he has said to a neighbor that I am a fine man and that he pitied me. 
What, a fine man after having ruined his daughter as is charged upon 
me ! Could he have said this, if he really believed that I had seduced 
her ?* Besides, he says to his neighbor Merry, that ""the father of the 



* Mrs. Randall testified in her deposition oefore the Council that Mr. Davidson said 
to her, (and this she says was after the birth of Rhoda's child) " he regretted thnt 
Rhoda had ever left Mr. F.'s as she had not done so well since, and spoke very kindly 
of Mr. F. ; ' One would think it utterly impossible for a father to use such language 
as this in reference v> a man whom he really regarded as the seducer of his daughter. 

While writing this note I will take the opportunity to state here that recommenda- 
tions were read to the Council to prove that Rhoda was a good girl when she came into 
my family. But Mrs. Randall's deposition proved that she came into my family a liar. 
Before we had ever seen her at all, she inquires of Mrs. R. for a hoarding place and 
says iC that she had been boarding in Marblehead three or six months." Whereas she 
was never in Marblehead at all ! Soon after this she told Mrs.R. that she was boarding 
at Mr, Fairchikl's. It has also been urged to my disadvantage that I gave her a re- 
commendation when she left my house at ihe close of the first year. And why should 
I not give her such a paper ? She had behaved well, so far as we had noticed, for the 
first 6 or 8 months, wiih the exception of those improprieties which we attributed to 
disappointment in her love affairs. And as the young man with whom she was in love, 
was then married or about to be, we naturally concluded that that event would calm 
her mind, and that she would do as well as she did at first. And how unkind it would 
have been in me, to have refused her a recommendation for such a cause? Her char- 
acter was her all ; and I was not the man to take it from her without some more substan- 
tial reason. Besides, she might have been licentious all this time, wmiout our know- 
ledge. We had no young men living with us, nor did such come to see her. She told 
Mr-*. R. that Mr. Ellis would nut come to see her at mv house, and that she went else- 



58 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

child was not a minister, neither was he a professor of religion, nor a doc- 
tor, but he was nearer a doctor than a minister."* And yet he came to 
me, who was a minister, and demanded money of me. Now what is this 
i i the view of honesty and common sense ? 

Indeed, the whole affair, on their part, seems to be nothing else but a 
money-making concern. Mrs. Easty, at the beginning, sent Rhoda to 
me for money ; she came and demanded two hundred dollars ; I yielded. 
f)r reasons already stated, one half of which I paid her then, and promised 
the other half at some future day. and all on the express and sole condi- 
tion that she would not lie about me to others, and thus destroy my char- 
acter, ruin my family, and bring reproach on the ministry and the church. 
I gave Mrs. Easty at the time ten dollars, who said that she ought to 
have something for keeping the secret, and she acknowledged to the 
Council that Rhoda also nave her ten. What became of the remaining 
forty, which Rhoda left behind when she went home, may easily be con- 
jectured. Though she told her father she must have lost a portion of it, 
yet it is possible, to sa/ the least, that Mrs. E. might have been the find- 
er. Then the father comes and demands fifty dollars a year for six years, 
and goes home and tells his neighber Merry that though the " father of 
the child was not a minister, yet he had done as well as he expected ; 
that he was not at all disappointed, and that he had received what he 
had, and should receive more if the man had his health," &c. By the 
disclosure Mr. D. has, ot course, no further claim on me for money. But 
if Rhoda's amount has been doubled as she stated to Mr. Robbins, who can 
doubt the readiness with which certain persons would double the amount to 



where to meet him. She might have gone to see others elsewhere without our knowledge. 
Where she was Thursday afternoons and evenings and on Sabbath days, and many even- 
ings of the week, or with whom she then associated we did not know. Besides, it" at 
that time she had been seduced by me as she pretends, why did 1 object to her spending 
a few days at my house after Mrs. Fairchikl had gone her journey, as was testified by 
Mi'ss Towne ? If what she has said had been true, one would think, that she would have 
demanded of me a home for a few days, yea, and money 100 to pay for her board some- 
where, while she was learning a trade, as'she then proposed to do. And I can prove that 
she said to more than one at the time that she gave up learning a trade because she was 
destitute of money to pay for her board and clothes. Ail this surely does not look much 
like the conduct of a seduced girl towards her seducer. Besides, if I was deceived in 
giving her a recommendation, might not others have been deceived in likemanner '") 

In the course of my trial at Exeter, recommendations were read to the Council from 
different individuals, speaking in high terms of Rhoda Davidson. Among others 
there was one from Miss Roby, a milliner, in whose shop Rao;" 1 a remained about a 
week. A female of undoubted veracity has just informed me that she heard this same 
Miss Roby speak of Rhoda since my trial, and that she expressed her opinion of her in 
the following terms, " I did not like her appearance very soon after she came to me, 
and thought she was not what, she ought to be. She appeared to me like one whose 
character wis not good, and I wis very glad when she could not obtain another board- 
ing place. She called once after she left, and I then hoped that she would never come 
into the store again." Miss Roby also said that her business was such as to leal her 
to form an acquaintance with many young females, and that she thought herself well 
qualified to judge as to their character. 

* I have now before me the deposition of Mr. Amos S. Hagget, a neighbor of Mr. Da- 
vidson, and signed ; n the presence of T. W. Chaolboum, Justice 6T the Peace. Mr. 
Hagget deposes and says : " I asked him (Davidson) if the father of Rhoda's child was 
a minister and he said he was not." 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED, 59 

her father, if their darling object could thereby be attained ? Were there ev- 
er before three witnesses more deeply interested in their own case, and 
under stronger inducement to testify falsely? They well know the position 
in which they will be placed, if I am acquitted. And yet they are to 
testify, while I must remain silent, because I am under a powerful temp- 
tation to swear falsely, while it is as clear as day that their temptation 
to do so, is far more powerful. But I hope soon to be ready to meet 
them, and to submit my case to the decision of a jury. 

My readers must now T excuse me if I introduce to their acquaintance 
the Dunhams. When the two brethren, (Messrs. Getchell and Odlin) 
went to South Boston to converse with the deacons on the subject of the 
Circular, they had a conversation with Josiah Dunham in the presence of 
his wife who seemed heartily to respond to the sayings of her husband. 
The following paper, written and signed by the above named gentlemen, 
was read to the Council at the time of my trial. 

'■• Sometime in April last, in company with Wcodbridge Odlin, I called at the house 
of Josiah Dunham, in South Boston for the purpose of ascertaining what Mr. Dunham 
would say in relation to an anonymous Circular, which had been distributed, defamato- 
ry to the character of the Rev. Mr. Fairchiid. 

Mr. Dunham without any hesitation denied all knowledge of the Circular ; both in re- 
spect to its author, origin, or publication. He said, Mr. Fairchiid was a rascal and a 
villain and he could prove it. ' He is as big a rascal as ever wore a black coat ; and I 
will leave no stone unturned until I get him out of the pulpit. Down with him and 
tell what I say everywhere.' And, ( if he had done as much to you as he has done to 
me and my family, you would dislike him as much as I do.' He then referred to the 
difficulties existing between his son and wife. Much was said and repeated of the 
above character ; all of which cannot be remembered at the present time ; from which 
I inferred a settled determination in the mind of Dunham to do all in his power to the 
injury o( Mr. Fairchiid. JOSHUA GETCHELL. 

I certify to the truth of the foregoing ; and will add that much more was said by Mr. 
Dunham of the same character.- It is impossible however to call to mind at this hour 
the various expressions made to us by him. My object was, more particularly to as- 
certain the feelings which Dunham cherished toward Mr. Fairchiid, and learn the 
source of the calumnious Circular. 1 was led to infer from this conversation that Dun- 
ham was the determined ioe of Mr. Fairchiid ; and although he denied all knowledge 
ofjthe Circular, he yet voluntarily made charges of a character equally severe. 

Exeter, July 24, 1S44. WOODBRIDGE ODLIN. 

And what had I done to Mr. D. or his family to merit all these hard 
names ? I must here give a little account of my connection with that 
family. After I had accepted the call to settle in South Boston, Nov. 
1827, I went there with my family a week or two before my installation, 
and put up, as 1 was requested to do, at Mr. Dunham's, either at his own 
expense or that of the Church. As soon as my furniture arrived from 
Connecticut, I commenced house-keeping. As Mr. D. refused at the 
time to receive any compensation for my board, the Church presented 
him a vote of thanks for his kindness and hospitality. With this he ap- 
peared highly gratified. My boarding theie a week or two was altogeth- 
er an affair of the Church, and as I supposed, to be paid for by them, if 
any payment was demanded, and not by me. But recently I have been 
informed that he has spoken to more than one of his boarding me at that 
time without his charging me a cent, as though there w T as a meanness, or 
t a want of gratitude in me not to pay him. Whereas, had I offered to do 



60 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

it at that lime, he would doubtless have been highly offended ; for he 
was then ready, and during many years afterwards, as he has often said 
to divide his last loaf with me. 

I had no special difficulty with that family, as I now recollect, till the 
year 1838. Soon after the explosion of the Franklin Bank, which took 
place under the administration of Dunham as President and Hathorne as 
Cashier, about one year after deacon Drake had been turned out of the 
cashiership, there were some hard feelings, as I was told, indulged to- 
wards me by Mrs. Dunham. The occasion was this. The blow-up of 
the Bank gave Dunham great distress. He groaned, and cried, and 
prayed, and at times rolled on the floor, and was truly an object of pity. 
He requested the prayers of Christians who called to see him. He in- 
stituted family worship, and had grace at his table. And it did seem 
as though his troubles were leading him to repentance, and a new life. 
Mrs. Dunham, not thinking perhaps that there was any difference be- 
tween godly sorrow for sin, and the sorrow of the world, regarded these 
things in her husband as evidences of conversion. She soon expressed 
to me her desire that I would converse often with her husband, and in- 
timated to me that it might be advisable to encourage him to join the 
Church. I said to her " Madam, your husband I hope, is an altered 
man, and that his repentance will prove genuine. But it will not do to 
admit him into the Church under existing circumstances. Public opin- 
ion accuses him of fraud in his management of the Bank, and though I 
trust the accusation is groundless, yet if I were to receive him to the 
communion table, those who deem him guilty would think that we had a 
strange Church, and might call it a cage for unclean birds. Wait awhile, 
and if he comes out clear from the stigma now resting upon him, and his 
repentance proves sincere and lasting, then 1 will encourage his making a 
profession with all my heart. 1 ' This, I believe was the commencement of 
unkind feelings in that family towards me. 

In the midst of his troubles in relation to the Bank, Mr. Dunham was 
in great fear lest he should be convicted of fraud, and be sentenced to the 
State Prison ; and this fear probably gave him more distress than any 
thing else. When the General Court was in session, they appointed a 
Committee to look into the affairs of the Bank, and Mr. D. entreated me 
to see that Committee and use whatever influence I had in his behalf. — 
Accordingly I did see two members of that Committee, in a private room 
adjoining the Senate Chamber, said all that I could in his favor, attribut- 
ing what was wrong in his management of the affairs of the Bank, partly 
to his own ignorance, and partly to the deception practised upon him, as 
I then thought, by the Cashier. 

My own influence, with that of other friends, and especially the fact to 
which he afterwards gave oath, that he could neither read nor write, ex- 
cept his own name, enabled him to escape an indictment for defrauding 
the Bank. I do hope that the stockholders who lost their all, and the bill- 
holders who did not fare much better, will forgive me this wrong ; for it 
was done ignorantly and through misapprehension. I did really believe 
at the time that Mr. D. was more sinned against than sinning. Had I 
known as much of him then as I do now, my conscience would never have 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 6i 

allowed me to plead for him as I did. However, he has since paid me 
for it ; and ihe spirit which he now manifests towards me, is convincing 
proof to my mind that he would gladly get me into that prison, out of 
which I strove to keep him.* 

But the line of demarkation between myself and the Dunhams was 
no» distinctly drawn till the autumn of 1841. At that time there was a 
serious difficulty existing between the youngest son of Mr. Dunham and 
his wife. I suffered this matter to pass for some time, unnoticed ; but 
as they were both members of my church, I felt it a christian duty at last 
to interfere, and to do what I could amicably to settle it. I deemed the 
attainment of my object utterly hopeless, unless I could first interest the 
mother of Mr. D. in favor of his wife, having had the impression that the 
mother was opposed to the match from the beginning. This impression, 
together with my knowledge of Mrs. D.'s peculiar disposition, caused me 
to enter upon my task with very little hope of success. But a conviction 
of duty was paramount to all other considerations. Accordingly I had a 
long interview with the mother, and endeavored to convince her that it 
was her duty, and the duty of her husband, as well as my own, to exert 
all our influence to keep that couple together, and thus to avoid those 
disastrous consequences which must follow a separation. But my efforts 
w T ere fruitless. She was for a separation, and said that the sooner it took 
place, the better. It did take place; and the means employed for its 
accomplishment are well known to the public. And as I presumed to 
differ from them in regard to this matter, and refused to join them in sus- 
taining their son in a course which I deemed wholly wrong ; as I ven- 
tured to decide in favor o( the injured wife, and to express my firm con- 
viction that she was not guilty of the crime alleged against her, the full 
torrent of their wrath and abuse has been poured out upon my head ever 
since But it seoms that i was not alone in my opinion, for it was soon 
confirmed by the decision of Chief Justice Shaw and Judge Wilde. And 
surely I need not be ashamed of coinciding in opinion with such men, on 
a point like this. This, I suppose, is the injury I had done his family, 
to which he referred in his furious and calumnious attack upon my char- 
acter in the presence of Messrs. Getchell and Odlin.f 

But who are Mr. and Mrs. Dunham that they should be so ready and 
anxious to blacken the character of their former pastor? By what author- 
ity do they assume the office of public censors? Have they forgotten the 
circumstances of their marriage. Do they remember whether or not 



* As a further proof of Dunham'? hostility to me, I would mention what has been 
repeatedly told to m?, that on the day when Rhoda Davidson's testimony was publish- 
ed in the Mail, h j bought five hundred copies, and caused them to be gratuitously dis- 
tributed among the families iii South Boston. 

+ It is worthy of note here, that the deacons and Mr. Howe sided with the Dunhame 
in this matter. Deacon Drake had formerly been turned out ot office as Cashier of ths 
Franklin Bank, through the indue ice, as he thought, o*f Dunham, which occacioned 
much heart burning, and many bitter words. But now it would seem that all past dif- 
ferences are healed. In their attempts to ruin me ih^y can join hands and work to- 
gether in perfect harmony. It is recorded that on a particular occasion, and for a par- 
ticular objeci, "Herod and Pilate became friends." 

6 



62 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

the first wife was then living, and whether or not the second wife be- 
came a mother long before the proper time? Do they remember whether 
or not the first wife was left to die in the alms-house ! But I forbear. I 
am unwilling to go into a detail of such things. It must be as offensive 
to the public taste as it is to my own. And I should have made no such 
allusions, had it not been necessary, in order to let the world know who 
the persons are that thus conspire against me. If my allusions here are 
deemed incredible, I would refer the reader for information to Mr. Ed- 
wards of Cambridge Port, who was formerly in company with Mr. Dun- 
ham, and who probably knows as much about these affairs, and some 
others, as any man now living. 

That the public may more clearly discern the persecuting spirit with 
which my enemies have pursued me, I must here state that as soon as 
deacon Drake had succeeded in obtaining Rhoda Davidson's story, an 
attachment was levied on my house in South Boston, for twelve hundred 
dollars, just double the amount which was even pretended to be due. To 
make this matter plain, I must go a little into detail. When 1 received 
my call from Newburyport, some of my parishioners, as an inducement 
for me to remain among them, proposed to build me a dwelling-house, in 
part at their own expense, to be regarded as virtually the property of my 
wife and children, to shelter them as a home, in case death should remove 
me from my labors. I remained, and the house was built. One of the 
two gentlemen who were my most liberal benefactors in this matter called 
on me about the time I commenced residing in the new house, and sug- 
gested the propriety of my giving them a bond obligating myself to refund 
to them what they had given, in case I should receive a call from a weal- 
thier church, and the offer of a larger salary, and feel it my duty to ac- 
cept. On this suggestion 1 immediately sat down and wrote an obligation. 
I cannot state the precise time, as the copy which I retained is not dated ; 
but as I removed into the house in August, 1834, it was undoubtedly 
given about that time. I subjoin a literal copy of the original. 

"Soon after I received an invitation from the First Presbyterian Church in Newbu- 
ryport to become their pastor, certain individuals of my parishioners in this place as- 
sured me if I would remain among them as their minister, they would assist me to the 
amount of several hundred dollars in erecting a new house. Among these individuals 
are Ebenezer Hay ward and Jacob Pike. These gentlemen have very kindly given me 
each six hundred dollars, on condition'that T remain the pastor of this church. And I 
hereby promise that if I ever ask a dismission to become the pastor of any other church, 
or voluntarily leave my present station to occupy another either as pastor or teacher, I 
will refund to the above named gentlemen six hundred dollars each. But it is distinct- 
ly understood that nothing is to be refunded in case I am taken off from my labors by 
Sickness, or infirmity or death. J. H. FAIRCHILD. 

In June, 1836, two years after the above obligation was given, Jacob 
Pike deceased. Deacon Drake administered on the estate, either as th« 
appointed administrator, or as Mrs. Pike's attorney. At any rate, all ac- 
counts passed through his' hands for settlement. The estate was settled 
and closed years ago. But as soon as the deacon had obtained Rhoda's 
statement and my letter, he goes to his neighbor, Mr. Jenney, with whom 
I had recently exchanged houses, and inquires of him whether there had 
been an exchange of deeds, adding that there was to be an attachment 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 63 

levied on my house, and he wanted to know which house to attach. Ei- 
ther then, or in a subsequent conversation, he said to Mr. Jenney. " Per- 
haps you think that we have dealt hardly by Mr. Fairchild, but you 
will find out by and by that we had reason for doing what we have 
done," or words to that effect. The plan adopted to levy the at- 
tachment, as I was informed by Mr. William Aiken, a member in good 
standing of the Phillips Church, was this. Mr. Rackliff, who married 
Mr. Pike's only daughter, told him (Aiken) that Mr. Dunham or his 
son-in-law, Barker Kent, came to him to ascertain where my obliga- 
tion was which I gave to his father Pike, and said to him that if he would 
get that obligation and give it to him, he would commence a suit against 
me for six hundred dollars, provided that he, (RacklifF) would give him 
one hundred of it if he succeeded, whereas if he failed he would ask noth- 
ing. So the bargain was closed, — a suit commenced by attaching my 
house in the name of Mrs. Pike, (mark, the deacon and Dunham are 
snugly concealed behind the curtain here,) and the writ made returnable 
to the court in Essex county, where it has since been entered, to be pros- 
ecuted, as I have been informed, by Dunham's lawyers, Messrs. MinOt 
and Homer.* 

Here then is a most unjust and vexatious suit commenced against me in 
a matter where there is not even the shadow of a claim either in law or 
equity. The obligation, on the very face of it, asserts that there is no 
such claim. My letter of resignation, the votes of the Phillips Church, 
and the doings of the Council that dismissed me, all concur in giving tes- 
timony to the same fact. Mr. Hayward, the joint partner in the matter 
of that obligation, says he has no more claim upon me to refund him six 
hundred dollars, or even one cent, than he has on any other man, and 
that the suit was commenced in his name, (Tor his name is in the writ,) 
without his knowledge or consent. I have since been compelled to sell 
my house, and this attachment put me to a good deal of inconvenience 
and expense, as does also the suit commenced against me in the Es- 
sex County Court, of which I had no previous information, and which 
came to my knowledge by mere accident. And in that court the s<uit 
now stands recorded to be prosecuted at the next term. 

Now 1 ask any candid man whether this be not an act of persecution ? 
Neither the Deacon not the Dunhams had ever given me one single pen- 
ny towards paying for my house. Neither had I any notice that a debt 
was due from me to the estate of Jacob Pike. Why not write me a let- 



* And yet Mr. Dunham sent a paper to the Council, taken, if I remember correctly, 
in the form of a deposition, denying that he had any thing to do with the attachment 
on my house ! The man who can swear to that, must, one would think, have quite an 
easy conscience. 

There is one thing in Dunham's history which always struck me rather queerly. 
Whenever he was telling me any thing which appeared incredible, and to which I seem- 
ed not to give a ready as>ent, he would generally close by saying, •' Ask Homes and 
Uomer. They will tell you whether I speak the truth or not." Such a constant refer- 
ence to these gentlemen to confirm the truth of what he said, tended rather to excite 
distrust than otherwise. However, if these excellent men are willing to be thus refer- 
»ed to as indorsers of Dunham's statements, it is surely no concern of mine. I have 
business enough of my own to attend to, without meddling with theirs. 



64 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

ter making a demand for six hundied dollars, that I might pay it, if due, 
. without the expense of a law suit? Or why did not Deacon Drake make 
the demand two years previous, when I asked my dismission ? If due at 
all, it was due then. But no ; he must wait till lie thought my charac- 
ter was ruined, and then goes to his neighbor Jenney to ascertain which 
house to attach, thus commencing the work of destruction on my 
property, which in one sense was not mine ; for it was originally given me 
to shelter my wife and children, when they could no longer have a hus- 
band and a father to provide for them a home.* 

* Soon after the death of Mr. Pike. 1 was informed that the widow was going to re- 
move to Newburyport, and the daughter to remain in Boston. In a conversation on 
the subject with Mrs. Fairchild, she proposed to me to invite this daughter to pass a 
year or more with us, as an expression of gratitude on our part for the kindness shown 
us by her father. I made the proposal to her : she thanked me kindly, and said that 
she would consult her mother. She soon after called and told me her mother had con- 
cluded to remain in Boston, and of course she should remain in the family with her. 
This daughter has since married Mr. Rackliff, a respectable citizen of South Boston. 
About the" time of Rhoda's disclosure, deacon Drake went to Mrs. Rackliff to inquire 
whether I had not made some sinful proposal to her before her marriage : She replied, 
never ; and that she regarded the proposal I did make as an act of kindness shown her, 
in consequence of her father's friendship for me. The substance of this she expressed 
in a letter which was read to the Council, but which has not been returned to me, oth- 
erwise I should publish it. The deacon probably did not say in this case as he did in 
the other, how anxious he was to prove me innocent; for he was evidently disappoint- 
ed. Soon after this, Mr. Houghton, a member of the Church, went to see the husband 
of Mrs. Rackliff and <! tried to convince him that Mr.F. (meaning me) had made a sin- 
ful proposal to her, and she had forgotten it ; and Mr. H. wanted to Mr. R. to say that 
it was so ; but he would not, — that he never understood it so from his wife, and should 
say no such thing." This statement I quote from a letter before me, as made by Mrs. 
Rackcliff to Mr. and Mrs. Trumbull worthy members of the Essex Street Church. And 
to show further the spirit deacon Drake manifests to my friends as well as to me, he 
said to the same Mr. T. in a conversation he had with him respesting this case, "that 
Mrs. T- had better correct some of her misstatements and mind her own business, un- 
less she is one of Mr. F.'s ladies." So it seems that a female friend, who presumes to 
speak a word in my favor, must do it at the hazard of a blast upon her character \ In 
a recent conversation with a worthy female member of the Church about my case, she 
spoke to the deacon respecting my general manner and deportment towards the ladies 
of my Church and congregation, that I was uncommonly reserved and dignified in 
their company, so much so as to excite observation and remark. He admitted the fact, 
but, denied the inference. He said it was done to avoid suspicion, that I might the 
better accomplish my iniquity. 

I will add here another specimen of the deacon's spirit towards me He inquired of 
a gentleman, soon after the meeting of the Referees, whether the crime of adultery 
was not ta State's Prison offence. The gentleman replied that it was. Then says 
the deacon in the most exulting manner, " Ah ! we have got Fairchild now : he can't 
get clear of this !" Even if it were true, one would think that a Christian would weep, 
rather than exult over the fall of a clergyman under whose ministry he had sat for 
more than fourteen years. Soon after this, in a conversation with a young gentleman, 
(Mr. J.) relative to my illness, who spoke of it as an evidence of my innocence, that I 
then denied the charge, and left my forgiveness to my enemies, and prayed to God to 
forgive them ; and then asked the deacon how it was possible for me to do so, if I were 
guilty? O, says the deacon, " he is bad enough to do any thing." And deacon Vinton 
has said in speaking of my derangement and attempt at suicide, that I was not crazy ; 
that I knew just how far to cut and not kill myself, and that it was all for effect, to ex- 
cite the public sympathy. One thing is very certain, that no sympathy was excited 
in his bosom. I have been credibly informed that Mr. Dunham accidentally fell in 
company with a female who once lived in my family a few weeks, and asked her if I 
did not attempt to take liberties with her, when she lived with us ? She replied, no, 
and said that I always treated her Kindly. He seemed to doubt her word, and said that 
he did not believe that I ever let any body go by th;tt had petticoats on. These are only a, 
sample of the means employed to ruin my character. 



INlQUITf UNFOLDED, 65 

I have not yet done with deacon Drake, though douhtless my readers 
wish that I hud. But they must have patience with me a little longer; 
for I am in no sense the aggressor in this matter, but simply a self-defend- 
er. And is there any thing more to he adduced against me by the dea- 
con? Yes ; I am told that he says if I am acquitted by a jury in this af- 
fair, he has enough more evidence to convict me. He accuses me of ob- 
taining money from some .gentlemen in Boston, (not from him) under 
false pretences ; that while I was professedly begging for the Meeting- 
house, the Organ, the Clock, and my journey, I was begging for myself, 
to pay off the mortgage on my house. And where is his proof of this 
grave charge ? He obtains it lie thinks in this way. After my friends 
had given me for my house all that they agreed to give, two thousand 
dollars remained for me to pay. Accordingly I loaned the money of Mr. 
John Bird, with the permission of indorsing on the note semi-annually,what- 
ever sum I might be able to do but not less than one hundred dollars at 
a time. Soon after this loan, Mr. Bird met with an accident which prov- 
ed fatal. Capt Stephen Glover had the settlement of his estate. Of 
course my note went into his hands, and to him I made my payments. 
And from 1834 to 1842 I was enabled to take up my mortgage. This 
was done chiefly by the aid of my friends in the city. 1 bad become ac- 
quainted with many gentlemen of wealth and generosity, some of whom 
seemed to take an interest in me both as a man and a minister, and 
to whom I made known my circumstances as to my house, how much 
was given to me at first and for what object, and how mu:h still remain- 
ed unpaid. Some gave me money exptessly lor my family in payment 
of the moitgage on my house. A certain gentleman gave me one time 
six hundred dollars for that object, while others gave me smaller sums. 
I have sometimes received money by letter without name or date, and 
know not to this day to whom I am indebted. I made the last payment 
just before 1 went my journey, with money which was given to my wife 
expressly for that purpose, and which she urged me to take to aid me in my 
journey, but which 1 did not feel authorized to do, le«t, if I never returned, 
she should be embarrassed by a debt upon the house, which the original do- 
nors designed especially for her and the children, when they fi;st proposed 
the plan of building, and which I had constantly kept in view till the debt 
was paid. I supposed that all my parishioners well understood the mat- 
ter ; lor I had said to them more than once from the pulpit, that all the 
property 1 had in the world, was invested chiefly through the aid of friends, 
in that house, and all I wished to leave behind me, was that house paid 
for, as an inheritance to my family. I recollect making a statement of 
the circumstances under which my house was built, on cne occasion 
when riding with Amos Lawrence, Esq (a name which I can never men- 
tion without emotions oi gratitude too big for utterance ;) and yet no in- 
dividual mote generously aided me in the expenses of my journey, and 
who, I presume, never dreamed that I was deceiving him with regard to 
my pecuniary affairs. And if any gentleman who gave me money for 
my journey has since dreamed so, or been made to believe so, it has 
been owing entirely to a misapprehension of the case. Not an indi- 
vidual gave me a single dollar for my journey, to whom I should not have 

r>* 



66 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

been perfectly willing at the time, to have given a true statement of all 
the circumstances with regard to the house. It is true that the house 
was legally mine, but virtually as I have already said, belonging to my 
family. From the kindness which I had formerly experienced when 
begging for my Church, I presumed that equal kindness would be shown 
me, when begging for myself. For 1 was, at that time, in a very weak 
and feeble state, going, as was my first calculation, to Europe, though af- 
terwards relinquished, uncertain whether I should live to return, my sal- 
ary about to cease, and my parishioners who were friendly, generally un- 
able fo do much for me.* Under these circumstances I thought that 

* During the month of December 1841, my health was uncommonly feeble. I had a 
difficulty in my back and kidnies. which gave me much pain, made it quite uncomfort- 
able forme to ride or walk and caused me, when sitting in the pulpit on three successive 
Sabbaths to place the preacher's cloak on the sofa behind my back to render my posi- 
tion lesss painful. And yet, if Rhoda Davidson is to be credited, it was during this 
very month, and in this very state ol feebleness and pain, with the recent attack of the 
deacons fresh in my memory, that she came to my house and had quite a struggle with 
me to prevent my having my way with her, and at length after a quite a squabble, I 
succeeded, although she stated to the Council that '• she always had her own way £'" I 
say thi^ very month, because the month of Dec. is the month fixed upon in the paper 
containing her charges against me, and because deacon Drake mentioned in the Vestry 
that it took place sometime between the 10th and 18fh of that month, (and truly there 
was no great difficulty in fixing the time after the child was 18 menths old,) and be- 
cause Mr. Shailer told the Committee of the Phillips Church who went to his house to 
see Rhoda, that her call at my house was from the lUth to the 18th of Dec. And the 
Deacon and Mr. Shailer doubtless urged this circumstance as an evidence that the 
girl had spoken the truth. They had not then seen the book of Dr. Chapin which fix- 
es the time of Rhoda's going to Abington the 12th day of January. And as she had 
uniformly said that it took place when she called to bid my family good bye, two or 
three days before she ivent to Abington, it became necessary in order to accomplish 
their plan oi convicting me, to alter dates, and to carry the time forward from between the 
10th and 18th of Dec. to the 9th or 10th of Jan. I would here remind the reader that 
Rhoda was turned away from my house for her bad conduct on the 2d day of Nor. 
1841; and that she then said " I'll pay you for this !" "Within eleven months and a" 
half from this time she became a mother. 

It maybe proper further to state that it was in evidence before the Council that OH 
the 13th day of Feb. 1812, not more than five weeks from the time when Rhoda said 
that she called at my house and had that fracas with me, she applied to Mrs. Chapin 
for medicine.because she did not lil<e to apply to the Doctor.and toldMrsC.that she wanted 
it for suppression which had troubled her for 2 or 3 month*. Mrs C either at that 
time or soon after, said to Rhoda that if she was married she should laugh at her, thus 
giving her distinctly to understand what might be her situation. And yet it was testi- 
fied to the Council that in ihe latter part of February, Rhoda went to Boston and spent 
five days, but never came near me. Now if I- Had been the guilty man, who can 
doubt but that her first object would have been to get access to me ? But she returns to 
Abbington without letting me know that she had been in Boston. Neither docs she 
say any thing to me on the subject till the 22d day oi' April, when her sister, Mrs. Eas- 
ty sends her to me for money. Where was she during those five days ? She says she 
was at Mr. Hoyt's. And where did she go the first of April on her final return to 
Boston? She says she vent to the same Mr. Hoyt's. Whether the plan for accusing 
me was there arranged, the reader can judge for himself. It was moreover testified to 
the Council that when Rhoda left Abington on the first of April, doctor Chapin said he 
should judge from her appe;»ram e, that, she was not far from four menths advanced in 
pregnancy. • And the child being born on the 18th of Sept. showed that the doctor did 
not yreatly err in his judgment. Whereas the first of April was only two months and 
twenty days from the fatal time when she said she called at my house. No wonder 
that my enemies and accusers wish to alter dates ! 

Rhoda states that she called, to bid us good by before she went to Abington. The truth 
is that neither myself, nor any of my family knew that she had been to Abington, or had 
any thought of going thore till after her return in Aprli. We were as ignorant of her 
place of residence during that period as the inhabitants of another planet, and cared as 
little about it. The reader must not forget that Rhoda testified under oath before the 
Council that I was the only man who ever had any sextual intercourse with her. 



INlQUITruRFOLDEC. 67 

my friends in the city knew me so well, and appreciated my arduous and 
successful labors in S. Boston so highly, that they would cheerfully aid 
me hi my journey, without wishing me to infringe on the property in my 
house. If I supposed that any gentleman, after reading this statement 
should think that I meant to deceive him in the matter, I would cheerful- 
ly refund to him the amount he gave, if he will inform me what it is, pro- 
vided I have any thing left, after getting through with the expenses of my 
trial. I have been obliged to sell my house, with the ready consent of 
my wife, to prevent any more unjust attachments fiom being levied on it, 
as well as to obtain the means of defraying the expenses which have al- 
ready accrued and are still accruing in consequence of the calamity which 
my enemies have brought upon me ; and as I have a family to provide 
for, without any income, my persecutors having succeeded in banishing 
me from the pulpit, and cutting off my salary, 1 do feel at times disheart- 
ened. But thougn cast down, I am not in despair. I still trust in that 
God who is able to defend and provide, and can cause the wrath of man 
to praise him, and the remainder thereof restrain. 

Bnt how came deacon Drake to get such an insight into my temporal 
affairs ? Instead of being satisfied with the sixty-five hundred dollars which 
1 had begged for the meeting-house and its appendages, and of which he 
is enjoying the benefit, not /, he must busy himself in ascertaining the 
dates and the amount of payments on my mortgage. I can imagine but 
one way in which his discovery was made. When Capt. Glover gave 
me up my note with the endorsements written on it, 1 noticed that he 
drew it from a wrapper on which the same endorsements were written, 
with the dates. That wrapper, 1 have reason to believe, has been in the 
hands and under the eyes of deacon Drake, or of some one who sympa- 
thizes with him in his enmity to me. And thus he obtains a secret which 
he would gladly wield with tremendous force against me ; but which may, 
in the end, prove as little creditable to himself as the- means employed to 
get the statements of Rhoda Davidson. And is deacon Drake ready to 
have such an espionage exercised over him ? If such a scrutiny were had 
into all his transactions with the Freeman's Bank, might not some things 
be discovered which an enemy could turn to his disadvantage? I hope 
that all bis management there is fair and honest, — that there is no con- 
cealment or double dealing. But it would be strange indeed if an eagle- 
eyed enemy might not discover something which has the appearance of 
wrong, and might possibly be used against him. If an enemy of the dea- 
con were to have a private interview with each individual who has an 
interest in the Bank, as he had with the female who lived in my family a 
dozen years ago, and propose questions similar to those which he proposed 
to her, it might not require a prophet's ken to discern something which 
could easily be turned to his injury. I hope not ; for 1 have no wish that 
he should be annoyed by inquisitors as /have been. 

And is there any thing more? Yes, more still. About the time of the 
meeting of the Council, deacon Drake was in the provision store of Mr. 
Craft, and there said that possibly the Council might acquit me, but ad- 
ded, "When we get him here to court, and a man sweass that he has had 
the bad disorder, 1 guess people will believe him guilty then." Similar 



68 INIQUITY UNPOLDE1). 

expressions he has used in other places and before other individuals. I 
have evidence that this story was reported by my enemies in Exeter dur- 
ing the progress of my trial. If the story reached the ears of any portion 
of the Council, as doubtless it did, 1 the reader can judge what influence it 
had on the final vote of condemnation. (While the Council were in ses- 
sion the deacons and the two sons of Mr. Dunham were here.) A 
grosser slander was never uttered by human lips. I solemnly declare, 
before God and man, that at no period of my life did I ever visit a bad 
house, or have connection with a woman of ill fame. Could such a thing 
have been possible without the knowledge of my wife? And if known by 
her, would she have lived with me another day 1 Neither she nor her 
parents would have consented for the v. ealth of India. Surely if that had 
been the case, 1 must have applied to som*-* physician ; and my first care 
would have been to enjoin secrecy upon him ; for as a clergyman, dis- 
covery would have been my ruin. But if there be a physician in Boston, 
or in any other place, to whom I thus applied, or requested to keep such 
a secret, I hereby absolve him from his obligations to secrecy, and give 
him my free and full permission to publish all he knows to the world, and 
spread it far and wide on the wings of the wind.* 

And is not this ail ? No ; there is something more still. My enemies 
say that when in Yale College I kept a mistress ! And how came this 
report to reach my ears? I will teli the reader how. A friend of mine 
informed me that the Rev. Mr Shailer told a gentleman who was putting 
up a clock in the new meeting-house in Btookline, that he understood 
that when in College, I kept a mistress. This friend went to see Mr. 
Shailer about it, and Mr. S. said he had reported such a story ; but as it 
was a general report, and could be substantiated by those who were with 
me in College, he did not see what harm there was in repeating it. A 
fine standard of morals by which to regulate the conduct and conversation 
of a minister of that gospel which says, " Speak evil of no man. Thou 
shah not raise a false report, nor put thy hand with the wicked to be an 
unrighteous witness." Was this doing as he would be done by ? What 
if it were told tome that he was the seducer of Rhoda Davidson, and 
that it could be substantiated by the fact that she once lived in his family 
and had said to others that he paid her more attention while living there 
than he did his wife, and by the fact that he had taken such, an active part 
in persuading her to clear him and accuse me ? Would he think it right 



* I apprehend that this story originated from the following circumstance : The last 
Sabbath m February. 1S33, I preached in Newbur/port three sermons. This effort, 
together with the journey by stage in a severely cold day. greatly aggravated a disor- 
der which had troubled me a week or more. It was a duTi-uliy of the urinary organs, 
arising from an inftarnaiion o! the bladder. I was confined by it to my house till some 
time in April I made no rtquesi of my physician to keep my disease pnva'e, neither 
had I any occasion to do so The next year I had the Spasmodic Cholera, and w;as at- 
tended by the same physici in. My case he afterwards reported in the Medical Journal, 
a copy of which now lies before me. In this report he speaks of me as <> a highly re- 
spectable clergyman.'' Now if he had juM cured me of the bad disorder, he must have 
had strange ideas as t<> what const itutes respectability in a clergyman ! If such had 
been the fact, no man who knows him can believe him capable of calling me a "highly 
respectable clergyman." 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 69 

in me to report the story to a clock maker, or to any body else? But Mr. 
S. doubtless thought that lie wa c doing God service by joining my ene- 
mies in their attempts utterly and forever to crush and destroy me. But 
as to the report itself, I pronounce it as vile a slander as was ever uttered 
by the tongue of a man or woman. J appeal to the then officers of Yale 
College, and to my class-n ates scattered all over the country : and for 
the information of the citizens of Boston, I appeal to Rev. Louis Dwi^ht, 
Secietary of the Prison Discipline Society ; and for the information of 
the citizens of New Hampshire, to Rev. Z. Barstow of Keene, who were 
both my class-mates, and with whom, when in College, I spent many 
sweet hours in prayer and religious conference, and who no more sus- 
pected me of such conduct, and had no more rea-on for it, than they had 
to suspect any and every member of the class. 

Can there be any thing more? Yes, one thing more. I have recently 
been informed of another circumstance out of which my enemies are seek- 
ing to make capital to my injury. They say that my wife once left me 
because of her want of confidence in me. We were married at Philadel- 
phia in July, 1825. In November, 1827, we removed to Boston. Mrs. 
F.'s first child was born in Nov. 1828. During the preceding spring she 
was troubled with a cough, and feared a decline in conesquence, as she 
then thought, of the piercing sea winds, to which she had never been ac- 
customed. Her parents came at that time, quite unexpectedly, to make us 
a visit, and finding their daughter in this state of health, thought that she 
must remove at once from the sea air, or consumption would follow. — 
They proposed that Mrs. F. should go with her mother to New York, 
and thence up the North River to some town where she designed to spend 
the summer. 1 at first objected, because, as I conceived, they had mis- 
taken the cause of her illness. But at length I yielded. When she left 
home I understood that she would write as soon as she arrived at New 
York, whereas her understanding of the matter was that she should vvriie 
as soon as she had reached the place where she and her mother were to 
spend the summer; and as the place had not then been designated, of 
course it could not be named. They tarried in New Yoik longer than 
they expected, so that before they reached Pittsfield, where they at length 
concluded to tarry, some two weeks passed away before I had obtained 
any information where they were. Receiving no letter all this time, I 
began to feel a good deal anxious, and expressed my anxiety to Mr. and 
Mrs. Dunham, with whom I was more intimate at that time than with any 
other family in my parish, but with whose characters I was not then ac- 
quainted. And Mr. Dunham, who is now endeavoring to turn this cir- 
cumstance to my disadvantage, tried then to make me believe that my 
wife did not intend to write to me at all, and he actually advised me to 
advertise her, forbidding all persons to harbor or trust heron my account. 
In this excited state, occasioned in part by officious, hollow-hearted 
friends, I went to the Rev. Dr. Wisner and disclosed to him my troubles. 
1 had then ascertained that Mrs. F. and her mo her were in Pittsfield, and 
I soon received a letter from her, which stated that her understanding 
was that she was not to write till she had reached the place where she 
was going to remain. As Dr. Wisner was about commencing a journey 



tO INIQUITY UXFOLDED. 

to the Springs, I requested him to call and see her. He did so ; and 
immediately wrote me a line advising me to go to Pittsfield. Accordingly 
I went, and found them convinced that I was right in my opinion as to 
the cause of Mrs. F.'s illness ; that there was no danger of a decline in 
consequence of the sea air, and that she might safely return to Boston. 
She did return most cheerfully ; and there the matter ended. And she 
testified before the Referees last May that she had lived with me nine- 
teen years, and that she believed me to be a pure minded man. Her tes- 
timony before the Council is well known. 

Now why should a matter of this kind be brought up against me which 
took place sixteen years ago? If I were culpable in this affair, did not my 
parishioners know it ? But I never learnt till very recently, that one of 
them ever blamed me for it. That cause must surely be a bad one which 
requites to be sustained by such means. My wife wishes me here to state, 
that whatever impressions might then have been made, if there was any 
blame to be attached to any one in that matter, it ought not to attach to 
me. Besides, if I had done any thing implicating my moral character, 
Dr. Wisner must have known it. But I was more intimate with him 
than with any other clergyman in Boston from that time till the day of his 
death ; and no one of my brethren appeared more ready and willing to 
exchange pulpits with me than himself. To those who knew the moral 
purity of Dr. Wisner's character, this speaks volumes as to his opinion of 
me. 

My readers will doubtless think it low business to notice such trifling 
concerns. True enough, it is low business. But when my enemies de- 
scend so low as to use such things to my injury, I feel constrained to 
follow them, though they do conduct me into the mud and mire. And 
as I was determined at first to notice all their slanders which have come? 
to my ears, I could not pass over this matter in silence. If they should 
hereafter invent and propagate any more slanders, the public can hardly 
expect me to attempt a refutation ; nor would they be forward to excuse 
me if I did attempt it. I will only add that if my character does not 
stand as fair as their own, among the people who best know us, then I 
freely confess that my deposition from the ministry is just, and that I ought 
never to be restored. 

What more my enemies will do I know not. Perhaps, however, they 
fancy that they have done their business so thoroughly, that there re- 
mains nothing more for them to do, but simply to look on and calmly re- 
view their work of ruin. But if they are not yet satisfied, let them 
goon. Let them if they will, hire their affidavit makers to swear away 
my character, if any yet remains, as has been done in more instances 
tiian one in reference to the best of men, and may be done again. Let 
them continue to hunt me " like as a partridge is hunted upon the moun- 
tains," or as a beast of prey pursues its victim thirsting for blood. Or 
they may threaten me with suits at law for uttering libels against them. 
But this is a game at which two can play, and who will be the winner no 
one can doubt. Besides, I have uttered no libel. God foibid that I 
should doso. I have told in these pages the honest truth. All the facts 
here stated are true, — in every essential particular, literally and wholly 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED 



^i 



true. They may deny their truth, and still assert that I am as vile a 
wretch as they have represented me to be. If so, I only ask the readeF 
to turn his eye back to my testimonials, as to character, when I com- 
menced my labors in S. Boston. And as to my statements respecting 
my watchers, I refer for proof to the Referees They are well known in 
Boston and elsewhere. They heard the whole. They are not men to 
eat their own words, or annul their own doings in a case like this. What 
they saw, they will declare ; and what they heard, they will affirm. Yea, 
they have already sffirmed it, when they say " that after a severe and 
thorough scrutiny, they find nothing in any part of my life which pre- 
vents them from according to me their full confidence as a minister of 
Christ." And when my case comes on for trial in Boston, I shall beg 
the Court for liberty to bring the truth of what 1 have stated in evidence. 
And if lam then convicted by the jury, and the Judge sentence me to 
the State Prison, I submit. And even in that confinement and disgrace, 
I should deem my condition far preferable to that of my enemies and 
persecutors, who may be roaming the world at large. Of a clear conscience 
in this matter my enemies cannot deprive me, neither can they take from 
me the confidence of my wife and children. But what are they doing? 
By what spirit must they be actuated ? Even if I were guilty, could they 
te justified in treating me in a manner so malignant and cruel ? If I am 
innocent of these charges (and I now solemnly affirm before God that I 
am, as I have affirmed from the beginning,) do they not deserve to be re- 
buked in terms of burning indignation ? 

And what have I done to merit al! this long continued and virulent per- 
secution ? Nothing — absolutely nothing. I have requested and entreated 
the deacons, both verbally and in writng, to tell me wherein 1 had injured 
them by word or deed, that I might make them the reparation which the 
Gospel demands, and which my own feeln^s would dictate. But they were 
silent, and well they might be : for they Tcnoiv that I never injured a hair 
of their heads. And although 1 have known the feelings of deacon 
Drake towards me since 1833, yet on all occasions have I treated him 
kindly. And I think I may say, without the sin of arrogance, that if 1 
had any established character in S. Boston, it was that of a peace-maker. 
If this be not so, then let all my former church and people testify against 
me. 

I will here insert a letter sent to the Council signed by 52 members of 
the Phillips Church ; 20 males and 32 females. The gentlemen who 
brought the letter remarked that there were 5 or 6 more male members who 
would have signed it, had they had an opportunity. And when the num- 
ber of males, who had signed the paper, was announced to the Council, 
the question was asked, " How many male members are there in the 
Phillips Church ?" To which I replied that I believed there were about 
50. The Rev. Mr. Patton immediately arose and announced himself as 
the pastor of Phillips church, and said that there were 102 male mem- 
bers. When I returned to my study I at once examined the book of 
names, and found that when I left the Church there were 67 male mem- 
bers, 16 of whom w T ere either non-residents at the time or have since 
been dismissed from the Church. And having been repeatedly inform- 



72 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

ed since my settlement in Exeter, that more members had left the Church 
than had joined it under Mr. Patton, and that he himself had mentioned 
the fact in the prayer meeiings of the Church, and lamented over it, I 
thought it quite strange to hear him proclaim to the Council that there 
were 102 male members in that Church. I will venture to express it as 
my full belief that there are not 54 male members in that Church who 
worship with them, or take any part in their business meeiings. Surely 
Mr. Patton must have had his mind on the multiplication table instead of 
simple addition. However, the impression was probably made on the 
minds of the Council that my word was of little value, and doubtless he felt 
it to be quite important that such an impression should then be made ; for 
if I could be convicted of iying in other matters, it would go far to prove 
that I was lying in relation to the case then pending before the Council. 
Deacon Vinton too was then present, if I remember correctly, and as he 
had long been a member and an officer in that Church, and one of the 
examining Committee, it was reasonable to expect that he would have 
corrected the error of his pastor. But he was silent. Mr. Patton is a 
young man, and of little experience. When he has become somewhat old- 
er, peihaps he will give heed to the words of Solomon, " He that med- 
dleth with strife not belonging to him, is like one that taketh a dog by the 
ears." 

Boston, July 18, 1844. 

We. the undersigned members of Phillips Church, have been personally acquainted, and 
most ol us intimately, with the Rev. Joy H Fairehild tor many years ; and we would very 
ireely state that we have always believed, and do stiil believe that his moral and Christian 
character has been and now is, unexceptionable. He ha* visited in many of our families, and 
not a word or act was ever remarked as m any way inconsistent with the character of a Chris- 
tian minister. 

In reference to a vote of our Church published in the Mercantile Journal, and stating that 
it was uuanimous in exonerating certain individuals, members of said Chureh, from all 
blame, we believe the matter was not generally understood. There were many members who 
did not vote ; and we believe, il the Church meeting had been caded at any time after the 
subject had been more fully known,the.whole case would have presented avery different result.* 



* There are certain things connected with that church meeting which need soma explana- 
tion. I will here explain the matter as it has been explained to me. The Result of the Ref- 
erees in acquitting me, had, by implication at least, condemned the deacons and Mr. Howe. 
Th^y were alarmed, and well they might be, for they had rendered themselves deserving of 
discipline. From this position they wished to extricate themselves as speedily as possible. 
And when they had obtained Rlioda's statement and my letter to her, they thought themselves 
well prepared lor action. Accordingly a meeting of the church is called for their exoneration. 
They tell their story about watchmg in their own way, and that they had been governed by 
motives the most pure and righteous. They then intimate that they have some awful disclo- 
sures to make about me, which must convince even my best friends that I am guilty and they 
are innocent. Finally, they make known their wonderful discoveries with regard to Rhoda 
Davidson ; and my letter, I am told was read, which as they affirmed, was a virtual acknowl- 
edgement of guilt. Tne case was clear. There could be no doubt. It was pioposed by dea- 
con Drake to raise a committee of my personal friends to call on Rhoda. At tliis, or a subse- 
quent meeting, when all was excitement an i darkness, tin vote was passed to exonerate the 
deacons and Mr.'Howe. And h^re I would ask, what connexion hid iheir exoneration with 
their story about me and Rhoda Davidson? Must the doings of the fle'erees be annulled, find 
Mrs. Dunbar voted an adulteress, because my servant maid had beeu hired to impeach my 
moral character? Must all their iniquitous conduct in relation to the matter of watching be 
pronounced holy and upright, because Rhoda had neen induced by money to accuse me of 
crime ? Truly the brethren were taken by surprise, and some voted as they did, without know- 
ing what they were doing Others remained neutial and did not vole at all. This was the 
way, as I am informed, of obtaining that vote which was published in the Mercantile Journal 
with so much parade. 

Besides, what had the deacons of Phillip3 Church to do with me or my morals'' Nothing 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED, 



73 



' We believe our late pastor to be naturally a very sensitive and timid man ; that ill health 
very much increased his sensitiveness and timidity; and that in this weak and disordered 
slate ot body and mind he was driven to take a desperately imprudent step in agreeing to pay 
hush money, and so tell into a snare. 



Hannah Gurney 2d 
Catharine Robertson 
Mary H. Whitman; 
Rebecca H . Learned 
Rebecca H. Bird 
Maria Piper 
Benjamin Tilton 
Nahum Dunbar 
Nathaniel D. Vose 
Mary S. Vose 
Abigail S Earns 
Betsey Tarr 
Adeline S. Whitney 
Hannah Vose 
C, Sherman 
Jacoh Sherman 
Elvira Smith 



Laban A Tyler Henry N. Clark 

Mary Tyler Reuben Hunting 

James A. Calef Sarah Hunting 

William Aiken Charlotie Wey 

Louisa Calef Rachel C- Rich 

George A. Hinckley Clarissa Lowd 

John R. Butler Snow Whitman 

E. G. Piper Sullivan L. Carpenter 

Joseph D. Winn Lucinda W. Carpenter 

C, P. Rockwood Robert Hussey 

S. L. Rockwood Sophia B. Hussey 

Lucy Mayo Ruth D. Dewire 

Abigail H. Bird Mary Malone 

Ruthy Clark Hunnah Gurney 

William D. Adams J. P. Kent 

Mary R. Adams Ann Kent 

John Vose Lucy Rice 

These names I shall remember with feelings of gratitude unutterable, 
till [ go down to my grave. And as these friends cast their eyes, over 
this page, I wish them to feel that I am addressing them. I call you 
friends, for such indeed you are. In 'my darkest hour, and your darkest 
hour, when no light seemed to break upon the subject,— when every thing 
was said to you which human tongue could utter, to convince you that 
you had been deceived, — that I had palmed myself upon you for fourteen 
years as a good minister of Christ, while all this time I was a very fiend 
incarnate, a pander to my lusts, and too vile to be intrusted with your 
wives and daughters, — a liar, a hypocrite, a seducer, and a debauchee, — 
yes, even then, when it seemed as though my enemies possessed all the 
light, and left nothing for you but darkness — darkness thicker than that 
of Egypt, you sf III adhered to your former pastor. You thought you 
knew him well. You looked back on all his intercouse with you, in pros- 
perity and adversity, in youi private dwellings and in public places, alone 
an;] in company ; and not being able to bring to your recollection a sin- 
gle word or deed, or look, or motion which indicated impurity in him, you 
felt bound as christian men and women, to comfort and defend him. And 



nmre than the deacons of any other Church. If public rumor accused me of crime, and they 
felt conscience bound to notice it, why not notice it in the proper way? I was then ihe pastor 
ol another Church. Why not come or send to that Church, and let them take action in tbe 
case? No; such a step, so proper and Scriptural, would sot answer their purpose. They 
must have ihe management of the affair, and by themselves or agents hold out the slrong in- 
ducement of money, otherwise their darling object would not have been attained. The 
Church in Exeter would n a ver have bribed the giri to testify against their pastor. The dea- 
cons were doubtless aware of this, and therefore they took the course they did, — a course 
which must bring down upon their heals the reprobation and scorn ol all good men and good 
citizens. No man has a right to do evil because he thinks that thereby good may come. 
Even a good end will never "justify unlawful means. But the reader can hardly fail to per- 
ceive that the deacons regarded my destruction as necessary to their salvation— that unless I 
was put down, they must be of course. Hence their anxiety to set up a fal^e issue before the 
brethren, and force them to vole when they were completely in the dark as to the true merits 
of the case. 



74 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED 



verily you have defended him ; you have comforted him. I pen these 
lines with weeping eyes and a throbbing heart. I thank you, — ten thou- 
sand thousand times I thank you. May that Savior be your rewarder 
who says, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, 
ye have done it unto me." I have been brought by my persecutions to the 
very gates of death. But I still live — live to bless and praise God for 
such friends as you,: — friends true — tried — firm- - sure. I can say no 
more. 

I will here insert a letter presented to the Council, signed by 63 citi- 
zens of South Boston at large, and comprising individuals of all denomi- 
nations. 



South Boston, July 19th, 1844. 

To all whom it may concern ; this is to certify that we the undersigned have been acquain- 
ted with the Rev. Joy H. Fairchild for a long time; some of us many yeajs, and others iess. 
Many of us are members of the Society lately under his pastoral charge, and others, citizens 
©f S. Boston, and living in the neighborhood of his late residence- 
Mr Fairchild has, for ought we have ever before heard, (that is to say prior to these late 
charges,) or even intimated, borne the character of a highly exemplary man while with us, 
and in every respect manifested the spirit of a faithful and devoted Christian and minister of 
the Gospel. From what information has come to oar knowledge, we believe Mr. F. is a perse- 
cuted and much injured man. We have no desire to screen him, if guilty; but undoubted 
and conclusive evideuce will be required by us, before we can entertain the opinion that he has 
done any thing to lorfeit our esteem. 



Cyrus Alger, 
Stephen Jenney, 
Horatio N. Crane, 
William H. Howard, 
Jonathan Pierce, 
Isaac Bird, 
Samuel Hill, 
William Turmbull, 
Joshua Jenkins, 
John P. Russell, 
Caleb S. Whitman, 
John A. Harris, 
Samuel B. Dean, 
Frederick Crafts, 
Charles H Reed, 
John W. Crafts, 
Seth Pettee, 
Samuel Waldron, 
Isaac P. Clapp, 
Henry Homer, 
Joseph Thing, 
Abner Forbes,] 



Brewster Raynolds, 
Joseph H. Clinch, 
Samuel Leeds, 
J. Tillson, 
William Macloon, 
Henry W. Fletcher, 
Osborn Howes, 
D. Nickerson, 
Noah Brooks, 
Juhn W. Blanchard, 
Willis Howes, 
Geo. Thatcher, 
James Morrill, 
Barnard Ford, 
Joseph Nickerson, 
Geo. E. Bent, 
Barzillai Howes, 
Timothy Baker, 
F. Nickerson, 
Thomas Nickerson, 
N: P. Mann, 
E.[M. P. Wells* 



Paul Sears. 
Daniel P. Morse, 
Stephen Jenney, Jr. 
William E, Gutterson, 
Charles E. Paige, 
J. H. Eaton, 
Joseph Colbourn, 
Caleb Thurston, 
Seth Adams, 
Benj. D. Baxter, 
Geo. N Noyes, 
William Andrews, 
William P. Loring, 
John Larrabee, 
Andrew C. Slater, 
Henry Safford, 
A. A, Whitney, 
W. T. Parker, 
E. W. F. Rice, 
Robert G. Living, 
James Tucker, 



And what shall I say to these, my former fellow-citizens of South Bos- 
ton ? To say I thank you is very trite. It is too cold and formal. But 
when I tell you that I utier it with unfeigned lips, and with a heart burst- 
ing with gratitude, you will not feel insulted by it, but receive it kindly. 



te Rev. Mr. Wells originated in Hartford, and knew me there. He appended to hi* 
Ltfitefc "have known Mr. F. as a minister more thau thirty yJi^d h t T e 



* The Rev. M 

lame 



B»Ter heard ill of him till how." 



INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 75 

You have long known me. With many of you I was in almost daily 
intercourse. I have had dealings with you, and you well know whether 
I was trickish and dishonest, — whether charitable and tender-hearted, or 
selfish and unfeeling. You have long known me as a minister of the 
Gospel. You have long known my doctrine and manner of life, whether 
my conduct out o£ the pulpit, gave the lie to what I advanced in the pulpit. 
And though I differed from some of you in religious opinions, yet you cheer- 
fully conceded to me what you claimed for yourselves — the right of 'pri- 
vate judgment. You well knew that this right I held as dear and sacred. 
When you heard me from the pulpit, you expected me to declare what 
I honestly believed to be God's truth, uninfluenced by favor, unawed by 
fear. But a style of denunciation I never adopted, because good men 
may differ in their religious views, and be good men still ; and because 
no man, with the Bible in his hand, is responsible to his fellow-men for 
his belief, but to his God alone. Perhaps it is owing to this fact in part, 
that I find on that paper the names of so many whose religious views are 
not in harmony with my own. But whatever induced you thus to express 
your high opinion and regard, you are entitled to my lasting gratitude. — 
And you not only knew me when you signed that paper, but you also 
knew my enemies. On an acquaintance of years with both parties, you 
were well qualified to judge which was most deserving your respect and 
confidence. And notwithstanding they were among you, telling their 
own story in their own way, to prejudice your minds against me, while I 
was absent, and kept away by an indictment procured, I doubt not, through 
their influence ; thus depriving me of all opportunity to defend myself by 
personal interviews with you, — even under these circumstances so unfa- 
vorable to myself, you sent the paper to the Council, to defend the man 
whom you " believed to be much persecuted and injured." Again, I 
thank you for that paper, which was so consoling and healing to my bro- 
ken heart. May God reward you a thousand fold.* 

And here my story ends. 1 have nothing more to say at present. I 
have not set down aught in malice, or for the purpose of avenging myself 
on my adversaries. I have acted now, as I have done from the begin- 
ning, solely on the defensive; and the only complaint which 1 anticipate 
from the candid is, that I have remained passive so long, with such weap- 
ons of defence in my hands. My chief apology is that controversy has 
ever been the abhorrence of my heart. 1 am constitutionally timid and 
yielding, so that when an enemy smites on one cheek, I am inclined not 
to give back the blow, but rather to turn to him the other cheek. And 
I believe that all who have known me the most intimately, will testify 
that I here state the truth. But 1 have been forced into this controversy, 
and to have maintained a longer silence, would doubtless have been con- 

* Deacon Drake was much dissatisfied with the conduct of Governor Briggs in relation to 
th.it indictment When it was announced in the papers that the Governor had declined mak- 
ing any demand on Governor Steele for my arrest, that 1 might be taken by an officer like a 
felon, and hurried to Court in Boston, the deacon remarked to his neighbor, Mr. W, that he 
did not like the Governor, because he refused to make a requisition on the Governor ol New 
Hampshire for my arrest. And Mr. W. inferred from what the deacon had said toothers, as 
well as to himself, that the Governor wouid haidly obtain his vote for a re-election in cons«* 
<|uence of this delinquency. 



76 INIQUITY UNFOLDED. 

strued into an acknowledgement of guilt. Therefore have I spoken. " I 
speak as unto wise men ; judge ye what I say." 

As nothing cuts like the truth, it is presumed that the individuals here 
implicated will be full of wrath and indignation. They may accuse me 
of writing this book to excite public sympathy, as they did when their 
unkindness drove me to madness and an attempt on my life. True, I 
need that sympathy, and should feel grateful for it; but my aim in writing 
is far higher. It is to vindicate the cause of truth and justice, which has 
been trampled in the dust. It is to let the world see that there are two 
sides to this question, one of which has hitherto been concealed from their 
view. Or my enemies may call me a liar in this thing as they have in 
others. They may warn the public against giving credit to my statements. 
But "facts are stubborn things." They may be denied, but not disproved. 
I have not penned a single sentence which I do not most sincerely be- 
lieve to be true, and which I cannot prove to be true, so far as the nature 
of the case admits of proof. But most of my statements are susceptible 
of the fullest proof, as the reader has doubtless remarked while perusing 
these pages. A mere denial on the part of my enemies will not and 
ought not to satisfy the public. As to all the essential facts in my story, 
I have given my documents and my references to confirm their truth. I 
could do more ; and a candid public will demand no more. To them, 
for the present, I now submit my case. And as I said in the beginning, I 
leave them to decide whether I am a Jcnave or a martyr. 



Note. I ought to have stated on the 43rd page that when my letter 
to Rhoda was read by Mr. Adams, I immediately inquired for my first 
letter to her. And when Mr. A. said it had been destroyed, I expressed 
much regret; for the first letter would have explained the last. In that 
letter 1 reproved her for her wickedness in extorting money from me in 
the way she had done, reminding her that she well knew my innocence, 
and that her charge against me was false. In the letter which she pre- 
served, I did not touch on that topic for reasons mentioned in my written 
statement before the Council. She had then communicated the matter 
to her father. And as my hand was thus in the lion's mouth, I dared 
say nothing to provoke, lest all hope of escape should fail me. This will 
account for the mild terms in which my last letter was couched. 



APPENDIX. 



Most of my readers have doubtless seen a review of the proceedings and 
result of the Council published soon after my trial, in the N. E. Puritan, and 
which has since been printed in a pamphlet, with corrections and additions. 
" A member of the Council" has recently been employed in reviewing that 
review in two numbers published in the same paper. The first number was 
truly the weakest of all weak things, (always excepting what was miscalled 
my defence before the Council ;) but the second number has more strength, 
and as the style is somewhat different from that of the first, it is not unrea- 
sonable to suppose that he obtained some help from one of the Committee 
of the Suffolk South Association ; possibly from the commentator of the 
Song of Solomon. But the strength of the second number is not derived 
from a successful grapple with the reviewer's arguments, which he well 
knew he could not answer, but by forcing in other topics which had little 
connection with what he had professedly undertaken to accomplish, and 
the only design of which probably was to fasten on the minds of the doubt- 
ing a conviction of my guilt, by introducing matters as evidence in the case 
which had never been submitted to the Council. Indeed,, his chief object 
in all that he has written appears to have been to convince the public that 
so large and respectable a Council could not have come to a wrong result, 
and administers quite a severe rebuke to the reviewer for intimating that 
such a thing was possible. But the reviewer justly remarks, " that no 
Council this side of Rome is infallible, and that it is no sin, in New Eng- 
land, to call in question the correctness of an Ecclesiastical decision." 
But " A member of the Council" seems to think that it is expedient for 
one poor clergyman to perish, rather than have a majority of the Council 
perish in the matter of their decision. The six able and influential mem- 
bers who voted for my acquittal, he would gladly have the world believe, 
did not mean what they declared by their vote, so that four of them have 
felt it necessary to publish letters, stating that they voted understandingly, 
and meant thereby to negative the doings of the Council. Now certainly 
I have as much respect for the decisions of Ecclesiastical Councils as the 
gentleman himself, end as a body, that Council was composed of as wise 
and judicious men as can be found in our Churches. And circumstanced as 
they then were, I am not disposed to blame them for their result. But when 
further light is beaming en a subject with which they were, but partially 
acquainted, I do not think it right for "A member of the Council" to rep- 
resent that light as darkness. I ask for nothing but fair play, and an op- 
portunity to establish my innocence, which indeed ought to be taken for 
granted till guilt is proved. But the Council thought my innocence was 
not proved, and therefore guilt must follow of course, thus reversing the 
common principles of justice. And is there a member of that Council 
who might not be charged with crimes of which it would be utterly impos- 
sible to prove himself innocent? Now to represent light as darkness in 
this mattter, seems too much like pride of opinion, and a determination not 
7* 



78 APPENDIX. 

to be influenced by any further evidence which may be adduced in my fa- 
vor. To reason with men who have thus committed themselves is truly a 
hopeless task ; and if I supposed that my readers generally were possessed 
of such minds, this book would never have seen the light. I should have 
submitted to my fate, and waited for the disclosures of the last day to estab- 
lish my innocence. But there are multitudes in the community whose 
minds are open to conviction, and who will gladly admit further light with- 
out calling it thicker darkness. And it is to their eyes alone that I com- 
mend the perusal of these pages. But 1 must express the hope that ' { A 
member of the Council" will, in future, find some more profitable way to 
employ his time and pen than to take such a method utterly to crush and 
destroy a man whom he has contributed not a little to banish from the pul- 
pit which he once occupied, (and for aught " A member of the Council" 
knows to the contrary,) with as much purity of purpose, and evidence of 
the divine approbation and blessing as himself. If he must write again, I beg 
him to prove, if he can, that the reviewer of my trial has not clearly demon- 
strated thatl was not convicted by the Council in accordance with either law 
or gospel. I would further request him to prove, if he can, that the Scribe 
of the Council, in publishing an account of the doings of that body, did net 
act a most unkind and unauthorized part, in making the impression on the 
public mind,that the minority were in harmony with the majority in sentiment 
and feeling, and voted to acquit me, not because they believed me innocent, 
but for some other reason 1 Was it right thus to represent the Council as 
virtually unanimous, and in order to give the statement greater weight, to 
add the influential name of the venerable and respected Moderator, without 
his knowledge or consent? Does "A member of the Council" approve of 
such conduct on the part of the Scribe 1 

This is not all. "A member of the Council" in his published commuui- 
cations, plainly intimates that the gentlemen who voted for my acquittal 
were my special friends and under my special influence, — that there was a 
frequent passing and repassing from the Lecture Room to my house, and 
consequently that they could not have been impartial in the vote they gave, 
— that they acted not on evidence adduced in open court, but on my assur- 
rances and declarations made to them in my private room. Now such an 
insinuation is as untrue as it is ungenerous. In reference to Messrs. Hop- 
kins and Haines, I solemnly affirm that they were entire strangers to me, 
having never seen them till I saw them in the Lecture Room at the meeting 
of the Council, neither had I ever had any communication with them in 
relation to my case. And during the session of the Council, I never spoke 
to them, except to pass the usual salutations, till the evidence was all in, 
and the vote taken to adjourn from Friday evening till Monday morning. 
On Saturday morning Mr. Haines called at my house for the first time, and 
said to me that if the case had been submitted to an impartial jury, it was 
his opinion that, on such testimony as had been adduced, I should be acquit- 
ted in ten minutes. As he was by profession a lawyer in high standing, 
and of course well qualified to judge of the nature of evidence, his opinion 
thus voluntarily expressed, encouraged me to hope that justice would be 
done. As to Mr. Hopkins, he never called at my house at all, nor did I 
exchange one word with him relative to my trial, till after the Council came 
to their decision and the result made known. He then called and express- 
ed his Christian sympathy and affection, for which I thanked him, and shall 
carry hirn in grateful remembrance to my grave. As to my intercourse 
with th« Rey. Messrs French and Clark, so "ungenerously and insultingly 



APPENDIX. 79 

alluded to by "A member of the Council," I have nothing to say. Those 
gentlemen have already spoken for themselves in the Puritan of Oct. 25th. 
They are well known to the community; and if "A member of the Coun- 
cil" thinks he can make the public believe that those gentlemen were capa- 
ble of such dishonorable conduct as he imputes to them, he is much mista- 
ken. His object in these insinuations must be obvious to all. How mel- 
ancholy it is that even good men should thus be led aside from the path of 
rectitude by their prejudices or passions.* 

But if it be proper for any one to make allusions to out-door influence 
on the minds of the Council, that work belongs to me. And here I would 
ask " A member of the Council" why the Rev. Messrs Riddel and Beech- 
er were here during the secret session of the Council, when no further tes- 
timony was to be admitted, and of course their specific work was done 1 
How happened it that they were putting up at the same public house with 
the Council, and mingling with the members at meal times and during 
their recesses ? Have I not quite as much reason to insinuate that they 
were here to overawe the Council and influence the result, as "A member 
of the Council" has to insinuate that the minority of six were overawed 
and influenced by me in the vote they gave? I believe that a candid pub- 
lic will come to the conclusion that if there was any undue influence used 
on either side, that influence was all against me, and not a particle in 
my favor. And if every member of the Council who heard Messrs Riddel 
and Beecher converse on the subject in private, were to declare all he 
knows, I have not a doubt but he would say that their conversation did 
make, and was evidently designed to make the impression on his mind, 
that, in their opinion I was guilty, and that the Council would be recreant 
to duty unless they deposed me from the ministry. It is the opinion of 
more than one that the cause of truth and justice would have suffered no 
detriment, had those gentlemen remained in Boston during the secret ses- 
sion of the Council, to say nothing of the part they acted in open session. 
Certain I am that their presence here, during those two days, was of no 
special service to me. It seemed too much like lawyers mingling with the 
jury after having plead the cause of their client, and before the verdict was 
made up and declared. If the reader should think me uncharitable in these 
remarks, I would just refer him to the extract from Mr. Riddel's letter which 
he will find in a note on the 48th page of this book. I say these things 
that " A member of the Council" may be aware that I can make insinua- 
tions with regard to out-door influences as well as he, and such as will quite 
as readily be believed by every candid man, as his own. 

I would ask ; ' A member of the Council" if he has forgotten the awful 

* When Messrs Hopkins and Haines published their letter in which they say, " we did not 
believe Mr. Fairehild guilty, we do not now believe him guilty, and we have faith that ere long 
his innocence will be made to appear to all," then "A" member of the Council/' (unless I mis- 
take the gentleman,) publishes a communication in which he plainly intimates that he did not 
intend to include them in the number of those who believed me guilty. But when the Rev. 
Messrs French and Clark publish their letter in which they say, " we "had no conviction, and 
have no conviction that Mr. Fairehild cannot be innocentin this matter; we did not consider 
him at all proved to be guilty," then " A member of the Council" more than insinuates that 
they were influenced by their frequent interviews with me ! This brings to my mind a remark 
which I have somewhere read in an ancient book, that the three hardest words to pronounce in 
the English language, are these : " I was mistaken." And though the remark might have been 
made centuries ago, yet it is as hard to pronounce them now as then. At least it would seem 
that their pronunciation has not become any easier, so far as •'< A member of the Council" is 
concernpd. He seems unwilling to err, if he must err at all, on the side of charity. He is so 
fearful lest a guilty man should escape, that he seems anxious to inflict punishment before guilt 
is proved. 



80 



APPENDIX 



disclosures of Maria Monk ! Many individuals, both clergymen and lay- 
men, as pious and discerning as himself, gave undoubting credit to her sto- 
ries. Why ? Because, as "A member of the Council" says, in reference 
to Rhoda, " there was an air of sincerity in her manner which seemed to 
say that she was uttering what she felt and knew to be truth." But a thorough 
investigation of her stories disclosed the gross impositions she had been 
practising on their credulity. And though many, for along time, clung to 
her as closely as -does " A member of the Council" cling to Rhoda, and 
were quite as unwilling to give her up, yet they were compelled at last to 
confess that she was not altogether so virtuous and truthful as she rind made 
them believe. And as Miss Maria deceived them, so Miss Rhoda may have 
deceived him. He further says : " I doubt whether the most eagle eyed 
adversary could have discovered in her appearance or manner any thing 
objectionable, or leading to a suspicion that she was not sincere in what 
she said." What, a witness sincere when uttering the most palpable false- 
hoods ! I am perfectly amazed that " A member of the Council" should 
have penned such a sentence as this. Did he suppose that no one saw or 
heard her on the stand but himself? Did he think that her examination, 
as published in the trial, had never been read ! Or has he embraced the 
strange notion that it is no matter how many falsehoods a witness utters, 
provided they are only uttered with apparent sincerity ? If he has embra- 
ced such a sentiment, I think it high time for him to let me and my char- 
acter alone. " Physician, heal thyself." 

I will now quote one whole paragraph from the last communication of 
" A member of the Council," as especially objectionable. 

'• I understand that Mr. Davidson, the father of the principal witness against Mr. F., has 
returned from sea 5 that an interview has been had with him by several responsible individuals 
having an interest in this case ; and that his statement to them is such as entirely to corroborate 
the testimony of his daughter, in all essential tilings, from the time when his knowledge of the 
case begins. I understand, moreover, that he asserts, that some of the language nt'ributed to 
him respecting the paternity of Rhoda's child, was not correctly reported to the Council ; par- 
ticularly that in which he is represented as denying that the father of the child was a minister. 
And especially as 1 am informed, he asserts that Mrs. Davidson does not admit that her views 
are correctly expressed in the affidavits accompanied with her name. The affidavits we.'e writ- 
ten by another; and. through agitation, or other means, at the time they were taken, she did 
not know sufficiently, or consider sufficiently, what they contained; and since, on looking over 
the published account, finds she is made to say things, particularly those derogatory to the ve- 
racity of her daughter, which are incorrect; which she never meant to say, and bv which she 
cannot abide. It is unfortunate for the Reviewer that the further light which begins to shine 
up in regard to this matter, shines darkness upon his cause. " 

Perhaps the further light which begins to shine on this subject is not 
quite so dark as "A member of the Council" nppreliehds. If his mind is 
n-ot too obtuse to admit further light, I should hope that the following facts 
might cast in a little more. What Mr. Davidson said to responsible individ- 
uals in Boston I know not ; but I do know what he has said to other indi- 
viduals equally responsible. He has said to them that "the father cf Rho- 
da's child was not a minister ;" and they are ready so to testify on the 
stand. He has said too that his daughters have acted like fools, but that 
he must protect them With regard to Mrs. Davidson, lean prove that 
she gave her depositions with perfect freedom, uninfluenced by money or 
jy:rsuasion. I can prove that she said from all she knew, she had as much 
reason to believe that Mr. Shailer was the father cf Rhoda's child as my- 
self, and that she said this of her own accord, without any question being 
proposed which would lead to such a remark. I can prove, that her depo- 
sitions were read over to her carefully and deliberately ; and when thi s 
sentence was reached : " My husband said he had seen a person who Rh - 



APPENDIX. S\ 

da alleged was the father of her child, and that he positively and solemnly 
denied all knoivledge of her, or of being its father ," there was a pause ; 
and it was read a second time, and the question asked her if it was so? 
and she said, yes. I can prove that since the trial, she has confirmed the 
substance of her affidavits to a merchant in Boston of the first respectabil- 
ity, who called at her house, and that she did it freely and voluntarily. I 
can prove that at the time when her depositions were taken, she expressed 
a strong desire (which was not granted,) that a similar paper might be 
written and left with her for her husband to sign as soon as he returned 
from sea, saying that she had not a doubt but that he would sign it. I can 
prove that Mrs. Easty has since been to see her mother, and immediately 
after her visit, there was a remarkable change in her mother's views. She 
was evidently alarmed, lest some evil should befall her daughters, probably 
fearing that they might be punished for what they had done. I can prove 
that Mrs. Easty has told different stories respecting this affair; and her 
very manner upon the stand, and the contemptuous terms in which she 
spoke of ministers ought to satisfy "A member of the Council," that little 
credit is due to such a witness, especially when testifying against a clergy- 
man. I can prove that when Mrs. E. had returned from Edgecomb to Bos- 
ton, a gentleman connected with the family by marriage, told Mrs. David- 
son that he did not believe that I would prosecute Rhoda, if she would 
only clear me by telling the truth, and that he was himself willing to give 
bonds to that effect : to which she replied, " I do not see how it can possi- 
bly be helped." Is not this enough to satisfy "A member of the Council" 
as to the cause of this wonderful change in the mother ? Does not this 
satisfy him that " the further light which begins to shine up in re- 
gard to this matter," shines something besides darkness on the case ? 

There are other things which I can prove when the proper time comes. 
But this may suffice for the present. And now I would ask " A member 
of the Council" whether he was acting a Christian part in sending forth 
to the world the paragraph above quoted ? If his cause be a good one, it 
certainly does not need to be sustained by such means. If it be a bad 
one, the sooner he ceases to defend it, the better ; for he will gain nothing 
in the end by any further attempts to destroy an innocent man, however 
strongly he may be convinced of his guilt. " Judge nothing before the 
time. Do unto others as you would that others should do unto you." If 
a portion of the Christian public believe me innocent, and are desirous of 
hearing the Gospel from my lips, why should "A member of the Council" 
take such pains to destroy this confidence and thus prevent me from pro- 
claiming God's truth to those who may wish to hear me? If I were restored to 
my office, the gentleman and all associated with him in sentiment and feel- 
ing, would still have the control of their own pulpits. And they may be 
sure that I should never obtrude myself upon them, or give them any trou- 
ble. 

I will only add that "A member of the Council" represents Rhoda as a 
truthful, unassuming, artless girl, and must therefore have justly accused me 
as her. destroyer. But there are others quite as wise as himself, and much 
better acquainted with the practices of the wicked, who have said, on 
simply reading her own testimony, that if I were guilty, they had not a 
doubt but she was the seducer. One or two instances now occur to my 
mind. A highly respectable physician in Boston, whose profession makes 
him far better acquainted with such matters than V A member of the 
Council" can be, has said that, from her own account of the affair, it was 



82 APPENDIX. 

his opinion that if I ever had any connection with the girl, she was the se- 
ducer, but he doubted her story, for had it been true, she would have 
shrunk at the bare thought of exposing herself in that public manner, and 
nothing would have induced a modest, virtuous girl to do so. And on the 
morning of her arrival at Exeter as my accuser, she said that she did not 
care about meeting the Council or the Assembly, but she dreaded meeting 
me. And well she might ; for she knew that she was about to accuse me 
falsely. And an orthodox deacon in one of the Churches in Boston has 
been heard to say that not one in ten, and perhaps not one in twenty who 
thought I might be guilty, believed that I seduced her, but that it was di- 
rectly the reverse. So much for her apparent artlessness and modesty, as 
represented by " A member of the Council." 

I will here subjoin a letter recently received from Mr. Riddel, Chairman 
of the Committee of the Suffolk South Association, together with my re- 

pJy- 

Boston, Oct. 18, 1314. 

Dear Sir : — At the last meeting of the Suffolk South Association, held on the 1st inst. the 
subject of your relations to the Association came before that body lor consideration. It was 
concluded that, before proceeding to a final decision, opportunity should be given for the in- 
vestigation of those parts of the evidence in your case which, owing to the absence of the wit- 
nesses, there was some uncertainty iu the minds of a portion of the Council. I refer particu- 
larly to the testimony of Mr. and Mrs. Davidson. Mr. Davidson being providentially in Bos- 
ton at the time of the meeting of the Association, was invited to come in, and to communicate 
what knowledge he had upon the subject. He did so. But as his statements did not, in sev- 
eral important respects, agree with yours before the Council, it seemed suitable that you should 
have an opportunity of confronting him in person, if it should be your wish to do so. 

The Association therefore, appointed the same Committee which Jiad officiated in this mat- 
ter before, to take such steps as might be requisite, to prepare the way for a decision on the 
question of your connection with their body, at their next meeting on the 1st Tuesday of .No- 
vember. 

After deliberation the Committee have requested me. in their name, to write to you, and pro- 
pose that you should meet Mr, and Mrs Davidson, before the Suffolk South Aasociation in 
Boston, at the time above stated. If you agree to this, and give us seasonable notice, we will 
endeavor to procure their attendance. 

Should you object to coming to Boston for this purpose, please to propose some other way 
in which the interview can be be had ; or in which Mr. and Mrs. Davidson can be personal'y 
examined in a manner satisfactory to you ; and your proposal will be taken into consideration 
by the Committee. 

In behalf of the Committee. S. H. Riddel, Chairman. 

To this letter I made the following replv. 

Exeter Oct. 29, 1844. 

Dear Sir — Yours of the 18th inst. was duly received, and would have been answered at an 
earlier period, had I not been immeasurably pressed by other matters. 1 do hope that neither 
yourself, nor the other members of the Committee will construe my delay into contempt. 

You speak of Mr. Davidson being providentially in Boston. This event might have been 
providential to you and the Association. But it could hardly have been spoken ofas such in rela- 
tion to my enemies who, I have not a doubt, procured his presence in Boston at that very lime. 
and for that very purpose. Be this as it may, you suggest the plan of my meeting Mr and Mrs. 
Davidson before the Suffolk South Association on the first t Tuesday in November. To this pro- 
posal I utterly object, and for reasons which I need not now state, but which you will doubt- 
less soon learn through another channel. But I am willing to meet Mr. and Mrs. D. on the 
following conditions. 

1. That this meeting be held in Portland, in the presence of Messrs. T. W. Chadbourn, Sam- 
uel Merry, Amos S. Hagget, and Samuel G. Wilson of Edgecomb, Isaac L. Folsom of Exeter, 
and Stephen Jenney of Boston. And 

2. That the Association appoint a new Committee from their body to attend that meetiug, ex- 
cluding yourself and Dr Jieecher. My chief reason for requiring such an exclusion, (and which 
must, I think, be sufficient, (is the manner in which you conducted the prosecution against me 
in Exeter. You then evidently transcended the limits of your appointment, as you will at o ice 
perceive by casting your eyes on the vote of the Association which appointed you, and which 
wtis passed at their meeting in June, held in the Vestry of the Phillips Church. You were not 
appointed as prosecutors ; but you acted the par t of the prosecutors to the full extent — no law- 
yers cowld have gone beyond you in that respect. Whereas it had been uniformly represented 
to ine thaty ou were comingto Exeter, as my friends uncommitted, with minds open to con- 
viction, and as ready to receive and appreciate evidenco in my favor as against mo. But you 



APPENDIX. 83 

acted a very different part, and were instrumental in deposing a man from the ministry for 
crimes of which he was as innocent as yourselves. You deceived me then. That was your 
fault. If you deceive me again, the fault will be my own. 

The man who appears before a Council previously " prepared to sum up the evidence in the 
case, and bring it before the Council in its proper connexion, to enable them how to act," 
must surely be regarded as a prosecutor. 1 o deny it is to quibble. And as to the part which you 
yourself acted, it would be an insult to adduce arguments to prove that you acted the part of a 
prosecutor. Every man who was present to hear your examination of the principal witness, or 
who has read it, must be satisfied as to the capacity in which you acted before the Council. 
You proposed questions of such a nature and in such a form as no Court of Justice would have 
suffered a single moment, — questions too, previously prepared and all written down, together 
with the answers ; and if the answers given, did not agree with the answers written, it seemed 
evident to me, and probably to others that there was some expedient adopted by which to 
make the agreement perfect. This was your method, " Did he, or did he not V u Did you or 
did you not? 7 ' You thus put leading questions to the witness through all her examination. Ts 
this the way to elicit the truth, and nothing but the truth ? Why not let the girl tell her own 
story in her own way 1 Surely, she had been long enough in preparing it, and had doubtless 
received help enough, and committed it well enough, and rehearsed it times enough* If the 
Council wished for further light, then let them ask such questions as they chose. Do you say, 
in justification of your strange course, that in your mind there was no doubt of my guilt, and 
that you felt constrained, by a sense of duty, to adopt it, lest, by some means or other, a guilty 
man should escape ? And was it honest and fair thus to commit yourself in a case of so much 
importance to the ministry and the Church, on mere ex parte testimony, without hearing or re- 
garding the evidence on the other side 1 Be it so, that you came to the Council with your mind 
made up. What then? Why, you should have regarded yourself as totally unqualified for acting 
the part you did. For the light of evidence to such a mind can find no access. What could have 
closed your eyes to the fact that the witness was falsifying the truth on the stand 1 Was it pride 
of opinion, and the fear that those to whom you had already expressed your conviction as to my 
guilt, might say that you were mistaken 1 However this may be, you must have perceived. I 
think, that the very first statement of the girl upon the stand was proved to be false. She tes- 
tified that she occupied the attic during the absence of Mrs. Fairchild. Whereas she never slept 
there a single night during her absence. This was evident from M rs. F 7 s testimony , to say nothing 
of my own. Thus the very first scene in this drama was fictitious. This, one wouid think 
must have opened your eyes to the game which was then being played. But how came this, 
scene to be laid in the attic '? I will tell you. The room which she actually occupied at that 
time adjoined a similar room of our neighbor's, the head of whose bed stood within twelve inch- 
es of her bed, with only a wall between them of the thickness of a single brick, aud through 
which the sound of the voice in common conversation can be distinctly heard. The girl well 
knew that in case that room was then occupied, (and she had reason to suppose it was,) and no 
noise heard, the fact might have been adduced in evidence to weaken her testimony. And as 
she represented to the Council that there was the shutting of a window, as well as a great deal 
of resistance, and weeping, and a whole hour spent in attempts 10 console her, and of course 
considerable noise, she was doubtless aware that the outcry might have aroused the sleepers 
in the adjacent room. To avoid this difficulty, she represents the matter as having trans 
pired in the attic, where no one was near to listen to the fracas. 

Now if this fiction failed to opened your eyes, how could they have remained any longer 
closed, when you heard her swear that her mother never asked her who was the father of her 
child, — one of the most incredible things in the world, and when the mother deposed and said 
" she importuned, and threatened, and coaxed her to tell." But enough of this for the present. 
You will hear more about it by and by. 

Now I would ask in all honesty and sincerity, can you blame me for refusing to meet Mr 
Davidson in your presence as a Committee, since you have seen him and obtained his own 
story as you did Khoda's ? And having thus got possession of his story, do you think that I will 
expose myself to the same treatment from you which 1 received before the Council '! You have 
notforgotton. I presume, the scene which there transpired. If you have forgotten it, I never 
shall forget it. When the girl grossly insulted me by saying teat " I had no apparent accounta- 
bility to a Supreme Being," thus virtually calling me an atheist and an infidel 1 felt constrain- 
ed to call on the Moderator for protection. And have ycu forgotten how soon you were oh 
your feet claiming protection for the witness ? What protection did she need ? I had not uttered 
one insulting word. This act convinced me that your object was to close mv lips, while her's 
were to be opened freely to tell what lies she pleased, uncontradicted and undismayed. From 
that moment, Sir, you had the management of the case in your own way, without further let or 
hindrance from me. But I consoled myself with the reflection that the time would come when 
I could speak untrammelled by you, and without the possibility of your putting a seal upon my 
lips. And that time is approaching. It I were to meet Mr Davidson, and he should deny the 
truth of my published statements of what passed between us when he came to see me in Bos- 
ton, I should deem it my duty to charge home upon him his falsehood, because every word 
which I have there published is strictly true. And do you think that I would consent to have 
you present to call on the Moderator to protect him, or", by availing yourself of the story he ha« 

* A younger sister has been heard to say to a lady with whom she formerly lived, that the 
story was written down for Mrs Easty and Rhoda, that they committed it to memory, and re- 
hearsed it to each other, and asked one another questions, that they might have it perfect. 



84 APPENDIX. 

already told you, to inquire"" did he or did he not," say so and so? Can you expect me to give 
you another such opportunity 10 frighten and browbeat" me ? JNever, by my own consent, will I 
again be caught in such a trip.* 

Perhaps I ought to mention to you that soon after Mr Davidson returned from sea, I received 
a letter from one of his neighbors, stating that Mr D. had expressed a desire to see me, and ad- 
vising me to gratify his wishes. Accordingly, 1 went to Wiscasset, within four miles of his 
house, and sent him word that 1 was ready to see him. But he could not be prevailed on to 
come near me. What was the reason ? Before my arrival he had doubtless received his cue 
from Boston ; and he probably refused to see me because he would not then have dared to deny 
the truth of what I stated to the Council. And if he ever denies it, I have not a doubt it will 
be in order to sustain his daughter^ and to get his reward, as they have done. 

I respect and love the Association, and never would a breach have been made between any 
of us, had not some of their number permitted themselves to be imposed upon by the testimony 
of a false witness, who was doubtless hired to swear away my character. 

If the Association see tit to comply with my terms as to the proposed meeting, they may fix 
upon such a time as will best suit their own convenience. That is a matter altogether imma- 
terial with me. If they do not comply, I have only to suggest that if they will suspend action 
for a month or two, it is possible that some new light may dawn upon the subject, whereby 
they will be enabled to act with a clearer understanding of the true merits of the case. 

Yours, &c. J. H. FA1RCHILD. 

I will subjoin an extract from a letter now before me recently received by 
a friend, from Mr. Samuel Merry. You will recollect that Mr. Merry is 
the gentlemau to whom Mr. Davidson said among other things, that the 
father of Rhoda's child was not a minister. He is a near neighbor of Mr. 
Davidson, and a member of the church in good standing. 

" What Mr Davidson told me concerning that man and Rhoda I can state as long as- 1 have 
my senses. I have not heard Mr Davidson say one word about the affair since he came home. 
I want you to write to me soon, if you think that I shall be called upon to go to Boston, on ac- 
count of laying out my business, so that I can leave home." 

Since writing the above, a letter has been put into my hands written by 
T. W. Chadbourn, Justice of the Peace, in whose presence Mrs. David- 
son's depositions were taken, and who is one the selectmen of the town. 

Edgecomb, Oct. 25, 1844. 
" To whom it may concern, I hereby certify that I was present with Mr Folsom when Mrs 
Davidson made the statements contained in her affidavits. I heard Mr Folsom read the first 
affidavit to Mrs Davidson, and she said the statements were correct, and she freely signed the 
same, and made oath to the correctness of the same before me. I read the second affidavit to 
Mrs Davidson myself, and she acknowledged it to be correct, and freely signed the same, and 
made oath to its correctness before me. I also certify that Mr Folsom used no unfair means, 
nor held out any inducements to Mrs Davidson to get her to testify as she did. Mrs Davidson 
made said statements cheerfully and freely, and with all apparent sincerity, and 1 saw nothing 
to induce me to believe that Mrs Davidson did not sincerely believe every statement she made 
to be perfectly correct. Your friend and obedient servant, 

T. W. CHADBOURN. 



* As 1 forgot to mention in this letter one important circumstance, T will state it here. After 
my evidence was all in, Mr Riddel occupied the attention of the Council for a long time in 
reading a paper containing a recapitulation of the evidence of the two witnesses against me, thus 
giving to the Council a double dose of the nauseous stuff. Having thus refreshed their memo- 
ries, which was virtually a summing up on his side, the motion was'made by some one in sym- 
pathy with him, that the case should then be submitted, without any formal pleading on either 
side. I yielded for reasons already mentioned, and thus lost the opportunity of recapitulating 
my evidence, and made no defence at all. Truly he so managed as to have every thing in his 
own way; and therefore it was no wonder that the Council came to a verdict of condemnation. 
Indeed, he was evidently bent on my destruction from the beginning; and when he thought it 
was accomplished, he goes home and writes a letter to a friend, boasting of his achievement! I 
could not help thinking of this passage, "whose tender mercies are cruel." 



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